


Right Back To You

by rebel_mistress



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, AtsuKita Week, Flashbacks, Getting Back Together, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:21:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29633175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebel_mistress/pseuds/rebel_mistress
Summary: Miya Atsumu and Kita Shinsuke were together for years. Then suddenly they were not. It will take a lot of courage and growing up, on top of all the heartaches, for them to wind back together once more.
Relationships: Kita Shinsuke/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 6
Kudos: 19
Collections: Atsukita Week





	1. Time After Time

**Author's Note:**

> Title is taken from Twin Forks’ song “Back to You.”  
>    
> This is my contribution to #AtsukitaWeek. Chapters are *loosely* based on the given prompts and will be posted on the corresponding days. There are a total of six chapters. A lot of things might not make sense yet (or at all), but more will be revealed in the next installments. I haven’t written a fic in yeaaaaaars, so this might feel a bit too rusty tho. Lastly, chapter lengths vary greatly, as I’ve tried different forms of writing here.  
>    
> Please enjoy. どうぞよろしくお願いします。  
> 
> 
> Chapter Summary: In which all Atsumu longs for is closure from Kita. He doesn’t get it, not really, but perhaps it’s not what he needs anyway. 
> 
> AKA AtsuKita love and fallout through the seasons, mostly told from Atsumu’s perspective, with a healthy dose of SunaOsa.
> 
> Day 1 Prompts: Seasons, (blink-and-you’ll-miss-it) College AU

**Spring** , _April 2017_

“Shut your trap, you pig!” In the public eye and under normal circumstances, 21-year-old Atsumu would never be caught talking shit to anyone, not even to his pain-in-the-ass twin brother. But it’s just the two of them now; no guards, no servants, no one else to pass judgment on him for the rough behavior he’s currently sporting.

“Well, you wanna know what Rin’s found out or not? Don’t think I’ll let you in on it if you’re just gonna be this insufferable.” If Atsumu’s painstakingly careful in _trying_ —with much difficulty—to keep what’s left of his public image and reputation as immaculate as possible, Osamu cares for it not one bit. To be fair, he never does anything that’s close to PR nightmare levels (that’s more Atsumu’s forte, really); he’s actually quite well-mannered. It’s just that he doesn’t believe in keeping up appearances, so he’s practically the same in and out of the limelight. Which means he doesn’t have a filter, especially so when it concerns his brother. Which also means he takes pleasure in seeing Atsumu suffer when the latter cannot retaliate lest he cause another media spectacle. But this afternoon he’s prepared for his brother to meet him head on. No press, no public, no scrutiny.

 _Right_ , Atsumu reminds himself. _You’ve waited so long to get any information about him. Don’t cock this up_. He turns to his brother. “So what do you know so far?”

Osamu takes his time answering. Normally, he can’t contain himself in making his brother’s life miserable by taunting him with information only he is privy to, as it’s quite a rare occurrence. This time, though, he looks at the blond with a hint of uncertainty and pity. 

_The fuck’s with that look_ , Atsumu bristles. He looks away, eyes now focused on the sakura trees they have in the garden. They’re days past their peak bloom, but the remaining dainty pink petals continue to evoke thoughts of _beautiful yet fragile and fleeting_ in Atsumu’s head.

Finally, his brother breaks the silence. “Rin’s on his way. Said he’s finally got legit info. Dunno how detailed though. Might as well get it straight from the horse’s mouth and all that rot. Think you can wait a few minutes more?”

Atsumu sighs audibly. “What’s a few minutes more, huh.” 

***

Suna Rintarou arrives about ten minutes later. Not even bothering to give Osamu a proper greeting first, he goes straight to Atsumu and hands the blond his phone.

“He’s in Shiratorizawa,” Suna says as his friend looks intently at the photo on his phone. “Or was. Whatever. Has been all this time. I could’ve just sent you that pic, but I wanted to see in person how you’d take it.” Atsumu doesn’t bother replying. Suna knows him well enough not to prod him for a response just yet.

“Oi, Rin! Forgot about me?” Osamu’s scowling but his eyes tell of an altogether different emotion. Somewhere between excitement and pride and a kind of _oh-god-finally_ resignation.

Suna, in all of his deadpan glory, simply answers: “Impossible. You’ve only been texting me nonstop the past two hours. I would if I could.”

Before their Inarizaki HS VBC days, he’d never willingly choose to get involved in the antics of the notorious Miya twins. But they’ve grown on him. He’s had time and practice on his side; he is one of the very few people who are experts on Miya twins lingo. In turn, he’s acquired not only their own brand of humor but a bit of their dramatic flair as well.

Ignoring his boyfriend’s gawking, he turns his attention back to Atsumu. “Finished his course there. Stayed with the cousin; see that guy with practically the same hair as Kita-san’s? The name’s Semi.”

“Oh, he has family there? Did you know about that, Tsumu?” His brother’s still too hyper-focused on the phone in his hand though. So he turns to his boyfriend. “How’d you even get that, Rin? Kita-san’s been MIA all this time then all of a sudden his face shows up somewhere? Ain’t that a bit sketchy?”

“Eh? You remember Satori, my redhead monster of a second cousin?” Suna’s sure he’s mentioned him in the past. Before his family moved to Inarizaki, his parents insisted on visiting their relatives up north regularly. Tendou Satori’s the only one who’s close to his age, and they spent quite a lot of time together when they were younger. “He posted several pics with his fellow graduates from Shiratorizawa University. He’s friends with Semi-san and now with Kita-san, too, I guess.”

“Dammit!” Atsumu explodes. “Your cousin’s a jerk. He’s known where Kita’s been this whole time and he didn’t even bother telling you.” The blond taps on the phone, trying to figure out something, anything, to make it all make sense. When he finally looks up, his eyes are narrowed at his friend. “Did _you_ know where he’s been all this time, too?”

“Oi,” cried Osamu as he wrestles with his brother to get his boyfriend’s phone back. “Leave him out of this mess, you bastard! If not for him, you ain’t gonna get any info on Kita-san.” The younger twin finally secures the phone and shoves his brother to the ground. “And he’s helped you more than anybody else, you ungrateful swine!”

“Samu, it’s fine.” The twins stop fighting and Osamu gives Suna back his phone, the latter wishing he’d gotten it back before the altercation. It’s been a while since the two Miyas had been in a physical fight. Ever since their senpai and Atsumu’s boyfriend left without so much as a goodbye, his friend’s been missing a certain spark in his annoyingly chipper personality. Osamu, though he’d kill himself rather than admit it, has felt just as broken for his twin brother.

Suna smirks at his friend. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you this fired up, Atsumu. Welcome back.”

“Thanks, I guess,” the blond replies drily with a matching eye roll.

Atsumu has so many questions, a lot of things he’s dying to know. _How’s he— Is he still— Does he remember— Why did he leave— Did I mean so little— If he truly loved me, then—_ But they’re all a mess inside his head and he doesn’t know where or how to start.

Osamu, seeing his brother struggle, takes the matter into his own hands. _What’s a twin for, if not to help you out? Or make your life a living hell,_ Osamu muses, _but now’s not the time for that_. He turns to his boyfriend. “So now Kita-san’s graduated, he coming back? Or is he staying there for good? Your cousin give you any more useful info?”

Suna, eyes still pinned on Atsumu, shrugs his shoulders. “Satori refused to tell me anything more after he realized I knew Kita-san personally. Just said that senpai’s earned his degree and would be leaving Shiratorizawa real soon. That was last night, and I’ve no idea if he’s still there. He might be coming back here, or he might be heading somewhere else. He must’ve known by now that his secret’s already out and Atsumu’d try to get there as soon as possible.” He sighs. “Sorry, Tsumu, that’s all I could gather.”

“Hey, you did plenty already!” Osamu, the ever supportive boyfriend, counters. “Tell him, Tsumu! Or I’m gonna kick your sorry ass again.”

The thing is, Suna is Atsumu’s other best friend, after his twin brother of course. He’s been with them since the start of their high school years and has been Osamu’s boyfriend for half a decade now. Sure, he’s got plenty of dirt on Atsumu that the latter cringes when he’s reminded of how much he’d have to sell his soul to the devil should the guy decide to blackmail him after all. But he took turns driving the car with Osamu when Atsumu, worried sick that he’d failed to contact his boyfriend for the past 24 hours, decided to take an impromptu visit to the countryside to see one Kita Yumie. He spoke for the twins when the blond, still reeling after having been told that _Shin-chan’s left for good—please don’t bother looking for him again, my dear Atsumu; it wasn’t meant to be_ , was left speechless and Osamu couldn’t decide whether to kick some sense back to his brother or let out a series of expletives at the unfairness of it all. He close to cyberstalked Kita’s closest friends—Alan, Oomimi, and Akagi—to see if they truly had no idea about their missing senpai’s whereabouts. He scoured the internet to look for clues as to where Kita might be for hours on end when he could’ve spent the time fooling around with his brother. Most importantly, though, he firmly supported the belief that Kita would never, ever leave without a proper goodbye if his departure and consequent ghosting of the blond had been of his own volition.

Atsumu may be a prick sometimes—no, most of the time—but never to those whom he loves dearly. “Sunarin,” he starts. “Bro. I’ll gut you if you ever tell anybody else about this—”

“Oi!” Osamu shouts.

“—but you’re the best bro one could ever have. Better than this stupid jerk, even.”

“Tsumu!” Osamu exclaims again.

Suna, surprisingly, doesn’t take the chance to record his friend being all sentimental, and instead eyes him half in distrust, half in worry. “Why do I feel like you’re about to make my life a thousand times worse, Atsumu?”

“You’ve stood by me all this time, helped me more than I deserve.”

“And what about me, you big oaf? Am I a fucking statue to you?!” Osamu’s so close to decking his brother.

“What the fucking hell, Atsumu. You’re scaring me,” said a wary Suna, eyes like slits and arms stretched out in front of him, as if to protect himself from his friend.

“I love you, Sunarin. And I know you love me too.”

Osamu starts cracking his knuckles, eyes ablaze. He assumes the position of a fox that’s ready to strike its prey when—

“Thank you,” Atsumu finishes.

The two brunets look at each other, then back at the blond. Suna wonders, “That’s it?” Osamu, sporting a dumbfounded look, asks his brother, “Have you finally gone off the deep end, you fool?”

Atsumu moves closer to the two, who uncharacteristically let him hug them. After a while he declares: “Now let’s get Kita back.”

“Oh fuck,” is all Osamu and Suna can say in response.

***

The two leave him soon after, claiming they need some alone time before Atsumu drags them to hell for good. He walks closer to the row of sakura trees and sits on the wooden bench under the biggest one. The breeze blows steadily, and as the cherry blossom petals rain down on him, he feels a kind of giddiness that starts to bubble from the pit of his stomach.

At this particular time in spring, the hazakura are a sight to behold. The contrast between the delicate pink blossoms and the fresh green leaves brings a spark of sustained hope, of anticipation for a stronger and more discerning start. While the sakura blossoms speak of fleeting beauty and the transience of life, they leave one with the need to _pay attention right here, right now_ and the awareness that accepting that such wonder isn’t going to last doesn’t mean one’s giving up. It’s resting in the knowledge that it’s merely a prelude to something much, much more substantial and secure—growth and maturity. The newly sprouted leaves remind one to believe in the power of perseverance and resilience, of starting from scratch year in, year out until one’s full potential is reached, until the relationship that’s nurtured through the seasons bears fruit.

Atsumu thinks it’s only fitting it’s this time of the year he finally gets to hear about Kita. He’ll finally get the answers to the questions he’s been asking the past months. How it’ll all end matters little. He may get another chance with the love of his life, or he may have his heart irrevocably shattered. Either way, he is going to get the closure he needs to finally move forward with or move on from Kita Shinsuke. That he fervently hopes it’s the former, no one else apart from his twin and his friend needs to know.

**Summer** , _August 2015_

Kita’s birthday is in July. While it fell on a Sunday this year, both Kita’s and Atsumu’s schedules were far too busy with revisions, final exam preparations, and end-of-term requirements on top of their etiquette (Atsumu) and diplomacy (Kita) training that had to be temporarily put on hold as their volleyball practice intensified. After their win at the West Japan Intercollegiate Men’s Volleyball Championships the week before, it was high time for them to finally focus on their studies. Dinner with the Kitas was all they could squeeze into their calendars.

It was precisely because of Kita’s insistence that his birthday was just another normal day— _nothing special, Atsumu_ —that the blond decided to give him a grander celebration during their summer break.

And that’s how the Miya twins clique, composed of the most popular members of Inarizaki University VBC, find themselves sporting the dullest yukatas known to mankind (PR manager: _The more ordinary looking, the better_ ) and masks ( _Remember, to be worn properly at all times_ ) as they gather on the way to the city’s biggest waterfront park. In disguise. All because Atsumu (Osamu: _Damn you, Tsumu!_ ) thinks it’s a good idea to have a belated birthday celebration, a wholesome date, and a group bonding all rolled into one activity. And no, it really doesn’t help that he’s chosen the grandest and most crowded event of the season: hanabi taikai.

And, yes, Atsumu has to wear a wig because the color of hair makes him easily stand out. _Troublesome, but can’t blame nobody else but me_.

Kita, as always, is the voice of reason. “I don’t think you’ve thought this out well enough, Atsumu,” he says. Aside from the hassle of going about whilst concealing their identities, Kita can’t help but feel sorry for all the security detail who will be accompanying them undercover. Unfortunately, though he is older and is being groomed to be the blond’s advisor, he is outranked by Atsumu.

“It’ll be fun, you’ll see, Shinsuke-san!” says Atsumu with a wink. And that’s that.

So Atsumu, Osamu, Kita, Suna, Alan, Oomimi, Akagi, and Ginjima head to the summer festival one late afternoon in August. Despite the late hour this time of the year, the sun’s glare is still quite bright. Luckily, the sea breeze lessens the scorching heat of the sun, making the warm temperature pleasant enough to enjoy even with their masks on.

***

Upon Atsumu’s insistence, the group make their way to the games area of the park for some kingyo sukui. It soon becomes a contest between the senpais and their kouhai to see how many goldfish each team can catch with only one poi per person allowed.

Everyone is gathered around the tank and busy scooping goldfish for their team.

“Man, if I were a fish, I’d wanna be a goldfish. Imagine just swimming around and minding my own business then all of a sudden it starts raining food. What a life!” Osamu says.

“As expected of you, Samu,” Suna replies with a pokerface though his voice somehow betrays his teasing. With his poi now completely broken, he is back to taking photos of the group. “Any life where you can eat for free is good enough for you.” This earns a loud cackle from Atsumu.

“Oya? Goldfish? You’re like the fish version of a gold digger, Samu!” Atsumu remarks.

Not to be outdone, Osamu counters his twin with, “Better a gold-digging goldfish than a bass...a big-mouthed dumb-bass like you.” Fortunately, both twins are still in the game, so there’s no chance of a physical fight happening any time soon. 

Ginjima, who has stayed loyal to Atsumu after being classmates with him for all three years in high school, stands up to his friend’s defense. “Atsumu’s more of a celebrity though, so he gotta be a starfish, no?” He’s just counted the fish he and Suna caught. Seventeen in total. 

“Eh, I’d say he’s more of a selfish.” Akagi declares with a laugh. Seeing the blond’s threatening glare, he makes a show of correcting himself: “Er, shellfish?” At this, both Kita and Oomimi, who are counting their catch, share a quiet laugh. Between the two of them, they’ve got nineteen.

Alan, the ever reliable tsukkomi of the group, says in a loud voice: “How’s that even count? You do know both starfish and shellfish ain’t real fish, right?”

***

The boys are led to a relatively secluded area for resting. Armed with various snacks and drinks, they take their masks off and begin wolfing down their food. The makeshift table is filled with watermelon slices, grilled corn on the cob, takoyaki, yakitori, yakisoba, and ramune.

Atsumu and Kita are seated side by side and slightly away from the group. The rest of the boys are gathered around the table.

“How’d we lose by two goldfish?! Two!” Ginjima complains.

“Senpais gotta show you youngsters we’re better,” Akagi responds with a chuckle.

“It’s all Tsumu’s fault!” Osamu claims. When Oomimi and Alan send him a questioning look, he elaborates: “When he saw you, Oomimi-san, having another old married couple mo’ with Kita-san, I bet you he just flipped inside. That jealous idiot. Got too aggressive with the fish after.”

Oomimi’s eyes are as round as they can possibly get. Alan and Akagi both laugh at the look on his face.

“Better steer clear from Atsumu the rest of the evening then, Ren,” Alan advises. “You know how he gets when it’s about Shinsuke.”

“I don’t even know what I did wrong,” murmured Oomimi. _Honestly, ever since he saw us drinking tea back in high school, he’s been like this. And that’s way before he got together with Shinsuke_.

“Don’t you worry, Ren. We got your back,” Akagi declares. “Our kouhai will make sure they’re between you and Atsumu at all times. Alan’s sure to pry him away in the off chance the block’s broken.”

“Hey!” cries Alan. “And what about you? What are you gonna be doing then?”

Akagi looks like a cat that’s got the cream. “Moral support, Alan-kun. Moral. Support.”

That gets him a whack on the back. “Hey! Why me?! I’m not one of the Miyas.” Alan gives him another whack, this time on the head.

*** 

Meanwhile, the two lovebirds are quietly conversing in their own little corner. The blond’sstill enjoying his grilled corn while the older, having finished two sticks of yakitori and a slice of watermelon, is halfway through his boba milk tea.

“Ya didn’t have to do this, Atsumu. But thank you,” Kita says with a small smile on his face. 

“What?” Atsumu says loudly. “No need to thank me. And of course, I do! We didn’t get to celebrate your birthday properly. Besides, I wanna show you just how much you mean to me.”

Kita looks askance at Atsumu. “Are you saying you don’t do that every day? Why’s it gotta be go big or go home with you always?”

“Woah, wait! Where did that come from?” Atsumu, whenever questioned about his decisions and actions, tends to go defensive and ramps up his theatrics. This instance is no exception. His voice grows louder as he continues, “I’m just saying I—we—wanna celebrate your birthday because your special to me—to us!” He attracts the attention of the rest of the group, whose conversation comes to an abrupt stop as they focus on the couple.

“But aren’t you already doing that? Every day even?” There’s a hint of confusion in Kita’s expression, but his voice is all analytical as he proceeds with his explanation. “You’re trying to outdo the things we do for each other daily. But remember: repetition, perseverance, diligence. You never fail to greet me every morning with a text message. You always spend your lunch break with me. You stick around ‘til the end of my study sessions with Ren and our classmates—even when you couldn’t keep up half the time—just so we could leave the campus together. And—”

“Well, you deserve all that and more. And it’s not like yo don’t do the same for me,” Atsumu butts in. Everyone, even Kita, knows that he’s a highly competitive person. If Kita texts him a “Time to put away your phone, Tsumu. Good night” exactly an hour and a half before their bed time every single night without fail, it’s only proper he be the first to greet him come morning. Kita does so many of these little things that may seem inconsequential to others. Even Atsumu, at one point in their relationship, questioned his own boyfriend if he was doing all of it out of force of habit, and how boring we’ve become, Kita-san. But he’s had time to understand Kita’s philosophy in life.

“Exactly,” Kita answers. “What we have is built upon the small things we do for each other every day. We need no grand celebrations—”

Truth be told, the other boys—with the exception of Osamu, that is—feel bad for hearing the couple’s argument. But they all agree with the dark-haired Miya, who says under his breath, “Well, it’s not like they’re being discreet about it. It’s not eavesdropping when Atsumu’s bickering hammer and tongs.”

“We don’t need to, but I want to!” Atsumu says in a loud voice. “I wanna show you how special and important you are to me. I think I can live without Samu, but I’d die without you, Shinsuke-san.”

“Yo, Tsumu! That how lowly you think of me?” shouts Osamu with a laugh. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he hollers, “Don’t you worry, Kita-san! The feeling’s mutual. Need no ungrateful Tsumu in my life either. He’s all yours.” The boys near him cackle uncontrollably.

But Kita is not easily swayed. “Don’t be stupid, Atsumu,” he admonishes. “You’re not gonna die just because you don’t have me by your side.”

Following a guffaw, Akagi exclaims, “He was trying to be romantic, Shinsuke! What a way to rain on his parade!”

Looking at the whole group, Kita continues, “You didn’t let me finish.” His eyes find Atsumu’s again, and he addresses the blond. “This,” he gestures between them, “is a by-product of all the small things we do properly for each other. We need no grand celebrations to mark our special days when you make every day special, Atsumu. It’s true I don’t need you to be with me every day and every night, but my life’s just been a little bit brighter with you by my side.”

Alan, it comes as no surprise, is the first to react. “Why you gotta say it like that, Shinsuke?” He actually facepalms. “With all that cold logic? Can’t you just tell Atsumu plain and simple what you feel? If you love him and you’re happy, then you love him and you’re happy—and that’s that!”

Atsumu is at a loss for words, but his eyes are shining bright and his smile is blinding. He’s mesmerized when Kita lets out a hearty laugh then says quietly, Yes, Atsumu, I love you and you make me happy. He catches his breath. And just like that he falls a little bit more in love with his boyfriend. Though he’s pleasantly surprised that there’s even room for more when it feels like his heart’s already bursting at the seams with all the love he feels for the other man.

***

Finally, they get to see the stunning fireworks display later that night. Atsumu’s booked prime seats for everybody, without a doubt not even batting an eyelash at their exorbitant price. As a perk though, their privacy’s ensured, and this allows them to take off their masks as they enjoy the view of hanabi—flower fires—that illuminate the night sky and which are reflected beautifully on the water.

Kita’s seated next to Atsumu; on the blond’s left is his twin brother, whose arms are around Suna who’s sitting in front of him. Next to Osamu is Oomimi, who’s behind Akagi. Alan’s right beside Kita while Gin is slouched next to Suna. Such a lovely picture the boys make that the staff, coming in to serve them kakigori, can’t help but gush over them and offer to take their photo. 

As they watch the Niagara Falls fireworks, Osamu leans toward Oomimi and whispers, “The study sessions though, Oomimi-san, I can tell you for certain. Those Atsumu attends to keep an eye on you.”

Oomimi sighs and answers in a flat voice, “Tell me something I don’t know.”

**Fall** , _October-November 2017_

Atsumu studies the photo in his right hand. It’s from that night they all went to the fireworks festival as a late celebration of Kita’s birthday. It still stands out as the best memory he has of the man and the most fun outing he’s had with his friends.

It’s his and Osamu’s birthday tomorrow, and it’s the last of their “free” years. By this time next year, he’s sure he’ll be drowning in a sea of endless work without Kita to advise him. _How big a difference the past year and a half make,_ he muses.

With Kita gone, there was very little that held the boys together outside of volleyball. Without Atsumu seeking Kita at lunchtime, the other second-years also stopped hanging out with their senpais. The rift became wider when Atsumu, nearly at breaking point, accused the upperclassmen of deliberately keeping information about Kita from him. Alan tried his best to be understanding, but when the blond kept making jibes at Oomimi for being silent—equal to being complicit in his mind—both he and Akagi finally lost their temper. The sight that followed took not only the volleyball coaches, but also the school administration and the Miyas’ PR team to fix. 

Needless to say, nothing has been the same since then. Even their camaraderie on the court was affected. Both Atsumu and Osamu decided to quit volleyball two months into their third year. Neither of them would be playing professionally after college anyway, so it was only logical for the two of them to give it up. And while Atsumu eventually apologized to Alan, Akagi, and Oomimi and the twins kept their promise of watching the team’s official games, the awkwardness lingers to this day.

He puts the photo back in the drawer of his table, glances at the clock, and sees that it’s nearly three in the afternoon. He stands and heads out of his and Osamu’s study.

The engawa that leads to his dad’s home office has a good view of the garden. Summer has officially ended, but the weather remains pretty warm. He wonders what fall still has in store for him.

***

“Is that all then?” Atsumu asks from where he’s seated at the chabudai. “May I now be excused?”

The Miya family’s pretty laid back with formalities and traditions, especially within the household. The twins have been brought up to speak their minds, so much so that it can be argued they’ve got no filter most of the time. No matter their status, they’ve always been allowed to experiment, experience new things, pursue their passions, so long as they’re still in school. But he’s just been reminded by his father that things are bound to change soon. He’s turning 22 in a matter of hours, and by spring next year—after his graduation from university—he’ll be taking on more responsibilities on behalf of the family. What better time to start practicing my manners than now? 

His father, with obvious hesitance, stops him. “Wait, Atsumu. Have you heard from Kita-kun? It’s been a while since he graduated. I thought surely he’d be back by now.”

Everyone in his family knows Kita, and they’ve always known about their relationship. Before he left, Kita was also being groomed to be his advisor. His father, in particular, has always held the older boy in high regard for his intelligence, analytical mind, and hard work.

“We thought so, too. Me, Samu, and Sunarin,” Atsumu answers. “When we checked with Shiratorizawa back in April, they said he’d already left. No news since then, otouhan.”

“Atsumu, dear,” his mother says. She has been uncharacteristically quiet for most of the meeting. She holds out a piece of paper to her son. “Here.”

“What’s this, okaahan?” He accepts it and sees an address written in very sharp and clean strokes. “Is this some venue for a blind date?” he manages to joke. “I thought our family’s done with omiai for good.”

While his father lets out a chuckle, his mother simply looks at him unimpressed and says, “It’s my birthday gift to you. Now don’t go about comparing with Osamu. Your gifts are obviously not equal in monetary value, but I know you boys well enough to say they are both worth their weight in gold.”

“Well, you’ll have to wait ‘til tomorrow to get my gift,” his father tells him. “And it cost exactly the same as Osamu’s, so no need to be envious,” he adds with a wink. The he stage-whispers, “Plus, I’d know if your okaahan arranged an omiai for you, and it’s not that so you’re still safe.”

Well, where else can Atsumu and Osamu get their wicked sense of humor if not from their own father?

***

The address his mother gave him leads them to a decent-sized house. He finally manages to visit it with Osamu on the last Sunday of October.

“Are you telling me okaahan gave ya a freaking house, Tsumu?” Osamu confronts his brother. His mouth is filled with the last bite from the agepan he had snatched from the kitchen before Atsumu dragged him to the car. Crumbs fall from his mouth as he speaks, and Atsumu cringes as he thinks about the mess he will have to clean up later. “How’s that even fair, huh? Thought you said I got the better gift, you bastard. What’s a commercial space—in a building our family owns anyway—compared to a fucking house? Wanted me to come to watch you gloat?”

“You’re disgusting,” is Atsumu’s reply. “Didn’t you learn not to talk with your mouth full like that?” He rolls his eyes at the brunet and, for a moment, regrets his decision to have his brother tag along to check out the address. “And I didn’t say your gift was better, just that it was probably more expensive than mine. That’s what okaahan basically said anyway.”

Atsumu parks the car close to the entryway. The two of them get off the vehicle and, seeing the gate left open, enter the premises.

“But if okaahan really did give you a house, how come she didn’t give you the keys or the security code?”

“Beats me,” says a confused Atsumu, scrunching up his nose. “Let’s see...what do we have here?”

The Miyas live in a traditional Japanese house, the same abode the twins’ great-great-grandparents lived in. While the family has had it renovated every fifteen years and retrofitted with security equipment to ensure everyone’s safety, much of its interior remains the same. Countless tatami mats and paper on shoji have to be renewed regularly. Their parents, much to the twins’ bewilderment, still opt to sleep in their futons. Fortunately, he and Osamu have their own sleeping quarters and actual beds. It’s one of those concessions their parents made; if they don’t have much of a say on the house they have to live in, then by all means get yourselves all those modern, Western things for your pleasure and comfort, their father once said.

So it’s rather surprising that the house their mother gifted Atsumu, if that indeed were the case, is quite modern. Steel front door, glass windows, concrete walls. There’s a big, open field at the back of the house, but no zen garden in sight. 

Or perhaps it’s not. Not really. Osamu tells him, “Maybe okaahan wants you to have a place you can hide in when you can’t deal anymore? Kinda opposite of what we have at home.” 

“I dunno,” Atsumu remains doubtful that this house is his. “Doesn’t look like a good hiding place, does it? I mean, it’s a little out of the way from the city center, yes, but it’s...” Astumu looks around, turns to his twin, and gestures to the big glass windows of the house, “very open. No CCTV cameras, even. And you know how okaahan and otouhan get when it’s about—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Osamu says, eyes directed toward the black car that’s followed them the moment they left the house. Their bodyguards know when to come to their aid and when to just watch them from afar. “I get what you mean. But if this ain’t yours, Tsumu, then why did okaahan give you this address?”

“As a prank, maybe? No fucking idea, Samu,” the blond replies as he moves to the right side of the house to take a peek inside through the glass windows. His brother soon follows him, and the two of them peer into the house’s interior. “Still empty though,” he remarks.

“Wait,” Osamu grabs his right wrist to prevent him from moving away. His brother points somewhere close to the kitchen area. “Look, a few boxes over there. Might be someone moving in soon?”

Atsumu squints as he tries to get more clues to this mystery of a house, but he can’t find anything useful to help him. There are three large boxes, and that’s that. “Whatever,” he finally says and starts moving to the direction of their car. “Let’s scram; no sense staying here longer when we can just go ask okaahan about it.”

It’s only when they reach the gatepost that they notice the hyousatsu and tools on the ground, hidden from view from the outside. It’s as if somebody was in the middle of attaching the new nameplate to the stone but suddenly got interrupted. Osamu squats to take a closer look and picks the steel plate up. He turns to Atsumu, eyes wide with surprise, and says, “Kita.”

***

Their mother refuses to budge; she tells them nothing save for a measly _no, the property is not your gift_. She pats Osamu on the back and kisses Atsumu on the cheek before she leaves for an important business meeting.

Osamu suggests having one of their staff stationed near Kita’s new residence, to alert them once the man shows up. Atsumu, knowing full well his (ex?) boyfriend will definitely find that a waste and too invasive, shoots down the idea quickly. They finally decide to just check every weekend, with Osamu promising to cover for his twin should there be conflicts in his schedule.

The drive to Kita’s house takes about an hour and forty minutes, one way. About two full albums of Atsumu’s favorite rock band, two podcast episodes of the English series he follows to improve his foreign language skills, and years and years worth of memories that bring him equal parts happiness and pain. It’s always better when Osamu, with Suna tagging along, gets to join him. His brother surely knows how to irritate him enough that he doesn’t fall down the rabbit hole full of whys, what ifs, and if onlys.

It’s the fourth weekend he’s doing the same pilgrimage. On his own this time as Osamu—you owe me the best momiji tempura for this, Tsumu—has volunteered to cover for him at a fundraising luncheon to free up his schedule. He’s currently playing Album #1, Track 10 of 14. Roughly an hour to go.

The view is spectacular this time of year. Spring is beautiful, but fall is majestic. The leaves of the maple, metasequoia, and ginkgo trees along the roads and adorning the mountains have reached their peak colors, creating a scenery complete with vibrant reds, yellows, and browns together with the remaining greens. Atsumu drinks it all in—beauty, balance, change.

There are two cars parked by the entryway, so Atsumu settles for a spot near the end of the block of Kita’s house. It takes him a good ten minutes to properly park his car because he’s started to feel nervous—hands too sweaty, cannot focus. He’s finally here, the moment he’s been waiting for; he’s finally going to get some answers and, if he’s lucky enough, see Kita once again. With his heart beating so loudly he can hear it, he makes his way to the house and stops short by the gatepost.

Because there he is, just a few feet away from Atsumu. As beautiful as he’s been the last time they saw each other. His shoulders just a tad broader, skin slightly tanned to perfection, bangs a little shorter. But it’s the same brown eyes, the same black-tipped light gray hair, the same smile. He looks like a benevolent god admiring the riot of colors that only autumn foliage can provide. The scene leaves him breathless. 

Atsumu’s known Kita for years, Kita-senpai his first year in high school, to Kita-san, to Shinsuke-san, to Shin. This man before him—right here, right now—looks familiar, yet Atsumu’s unsure if he’s the same person he used to know.

When he was younger, he was a firm believer of the saying, “Who needs memories?” Despite living and breathing history since birth and being destined to continue the family legacy, they have always been encouraged by their parents to live unencumbered by the milestones of their ancestors and the ghosts of their past. He used to be all for now, for the moment. That was until Kita up and left him without an explanation. Then all of a sudden he realized there weren’t enough pictures of everything they’d shared, and just a piss poor number of mementos and letters exchanged between them. 

Like a tsunami, the urge to immortalize this moment comes crashing hard, and Atsumu is powerless over it. He takes out his phone and captures the scene, the feeling. _No matter what happens to us after this, I want to be able to remember you in this light_.

But before Atsumu can close the distance between them (a chasm more like, at this point, he thinks), another figure comes out from the back, previously hidden by one part of the house. He doesn’t know why, but he instinctually ducks behind the stone fence so as not to be seen. It feels like he’s intruding on something personal, intimate, meant only for the two men before him.

He wants to think he’s matured enough by now. Twenty-two, about to graduate from university, and ready to take on more leadership roles. But the jealousy that sears through him as he sees another man hug Kita has him clutching his chest, a gesture he was so fond of in his teenage years. _Dramatic little shit,_ was Osamu’s default reaction to it.

With age comes more self-awareness for Atsumu, however, and he finally manages to rein in the deluge of whys and how could yous. His younger self would’ve undoubtedly marched to the two in an instant and staked his claim on the gray-haired man. But that’s boy-Atsumu, not the man he’s finally become.

So he decides to be the bigger person— _Ain’t you proud of me, Samu?_ —and leave the lovers alone. He takes one last look, though, and recognizes a familiar face.

 _So, it’s Oomimi-san after all_.

***

The drive home feels twice as long, and Atsumu’s not sure if it’s his driving or just his mind playing tricks on him. He chooses not to play anything despite the distraction it surely will give him. Instead, he lets himself feel and own his current emotions.

“Bittersweet, that’s it,” he mutters to himself. So many words aptly describe the season, but to Atsumu fall is bittersweet. Oh, to be allowed to enjoy such an enchanting sight, knowing full well that it’ll all be gone too soon.

As he reaches home, he notices more leaves on the ground. The crunch of fallen leaves under his feet and the sight of the soon-to-be-barren branches against the blue sky whisper the same thing: _Let go, let go, let go_.

 _If only it were that easy_ , he thinks.

**Winter** , _February 2018_

It doesn’t snow much in Inarizaki, and when it does and the snow stays on the ground, it always melts within a few hours. But it’s still quite early and cold, and the sun’s still partly blocked by clouds, letting Atsumu and Osamu enjoy the view of their garden still covered in fresh snow for a bit longer.

“So, you bent on the food biz, yeah?” Atsumu asks his brother, who is currently on his second cup of hot amazake. It’s unusual for them to be up this early after they both quit volleyball, but Atsumu’s been feeling restless the past few weeks.

Partly it’s the uncertainty that he knows will follow graduation. Even when they have already decided what they want to do after university, no one knows for sure how it’ll all turn out. New people to meet and work with, different expectations. He and Osamu have been together, doing mostly the same things, the past 22 years. And now he feels they’re on the cusp of a big change, and he’s not quite sure how to go about it on his own.

“Hmm,” Osamu closes his eyes, both his hands holding his hot drink. He’s quiet a few seconds more. “You’re the heir, Tsumu. And unless you take over without your own heir, then I’m just the spare, yeah?”

“Samu, that’s—“

“No, let me finish first,” Osamu finally opens his eyes again and looks straight at his brother. “I learned as much as I can for the family, for you, in case something happens. Sure, I like the banquets and whatnot—the food is divine.”

Atsumu lets out a loud snort at this. “The food, he says.”

Osamu pays no mind to his interruption. “But leadership isn’t my strong suit, you know that. And I absolutely hate attending hours-long meetings with all those stuffy windbags who think they automatically know better just ‘cause they’re old. That’s more you between the two of us. That said, if having a very minor role in running Inarizaki is the price I gotta pay to do what I actually wanna do, then that’s a no brainer, Tsumu. Sounds like the best deal to me, not a sacrifice.”

Atsumu feels proud of his brother. Growing up, they’ve always known that Atsumu, by virtue of being first born, is the one who’ll take over their father’s duties as Inarizaki’s ruler. While their parents have always been fair and impartial, there are others who treat him better and with more respect. That Osamu’s never shown any resentment toward him is a comfort to Atsumu. He once again vows to do whatever he can to help his twin find success and happiness in life.

“What about Sunarin, then? Serious enough to tie the knot eventually?” And what better way to ensure Osamu’s happiness than by having Sunarin officially become part of the family.

“What?!” the brunet exclaims. “Still too early for that, Tsumu. We haven’t even graduated yet.”

“True, true,” Atsumu laughs. “But I know you, Samu. I bet yo already have a ring somewhere in your closet.”

Osamu narrows his eyes at his brother. “Don’t tell me you’ve been through my closet again! When are you gonna grow up, Tsumu? We have the same shit, so why you gotta get my things anyway?”

Atsumu gives him the finger. “Rude, Samu! And I did not! Just saying it’s solike ya to be ready with a proposal this early, is all.”

“Don’t worry, Tsumu, ya’ll be the first to know ‘bout it when it happens.” The smirk Osamu directs at him calms him immensely. They may be heading in slightly different directions, but he knows they’ve always got each other’s backs come what may.

***

There’s this thing called winter depression. Scientists say some people are so sensitive to light that when there’s very little of it, their mood is affected. But it can also manifest in ways other than actual depression. Trouble getting up in the morning, fatigue, propensity to overeat. 

Atsumu’s never had to deal with seasonal affective disorder during this time of year. Until now. All because of his recent talks with his grandmother.

“It’s not as bad as young people make it out to be, honestly,” she said the first time she breached the topic of marriage and talked about her arranged marriage with Atsumu’s grandfather. 

“I’d like you to think about it, my dear,” was what he got during their tête-à-tête that time the twins were called to her estate for a visit back in October. So he wasn’t wrong, then, when he began to suspect something after she’d started talking about marriage. 

When he agreed to meet her at a cafe near the campus one afternoon—just you, dear Atsumu—her parting words were, “Just give it a try, my child. There’s no harm in trying.” But that was In November, during the time he would drive back and forth to Kita’s house on the weekends in the hopes of meeting him once more. His mind was too occupied with thoughts of Kita to think of arranged marriages, of all things. 

“‘Tis your ‘jiisan’s final wish,” was what she said next about the topic. The family were gathered for Shogatsu, and it’s always been her practice to have her private moments with each of her grandchildren. Atsumu, at that point, had almost forgotten about his grandmother’s insistence on arranging an omiai for him. Luckily, their conversation was cut short when Osamu, bless him, had an accident in the kitchen and had to employ his twin’s help or else they wouldn’t have any osechi ryori to enjoy on New Year’s Day. 

The thought’s stayed with him, however. Flitting in the gaps when his mind finally, finally allows him to think of anything else other than his studies, his training, and Kita. While his parents are not so hung up on tradition, he understands where his grandmother’s coming from. And this has resulted in a couple of sleepless nights and lost-in-thought moments, enough for Osamu to start worrying about him, asking if he has the winter blues. 

But nothing seals the deal better than his grandmother’s last trick up her sleeve. A trump card, really. And Atsumu’s helpless about it.

She visits them mid-February to give them her advanced graduation presents. To Osamu she hands the original copy of a book of recipes of the Miya family, passed down from generation to generation. This he knows because Osamu shoves it in his face when he tells him it’s now his turn to speak with their grandmother.

At first she asks about his preparations for his first job as his father’s executive secretary, shadowing him as he goes about his tasks. He’s to hold this position for at least a year, learning the ropes from his father, before he’s given more power to lead. Then she starts asking about Kita, knowing full well his past relationship with the older man.

It all comes down to this: “It has to be either you or Osamu. And we both know how serious he is about Suna-kun, Please consider that, Atsumu.” And, really, what else is there to say about the matter when she puts it like that? No matter how explosive their arguments and fights get, his brother’s happiness comes before his own. Always.

Later, he leaves the room with the right pocket of his pants heavy and bulging with a box that houses his grandparents’ wedding rings, and a heavier heart. He supposes even the current season’s telling him the same message: leave the past behind and start anew in spring. He desperately wishes the coming season would be kinder to him.


	2. Pretend You Couldn’t Give A Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumor has it that someone famous is getting married. Nothing is confirmed, but the internet breaks anyway. 
> 
> AKA AtsuKita in the eyes of the public, with the special appearance of a gorgeous man with two moles on his forehead 
> 
> This is 2k long but the only AtsuKita interaction you’re going to get is a measly Tweet exchange. You’ve been warned. 
> 
> Written for Day 2 of #AtsukitaWeek  
> Prompts: Sacrifice, (sorta) Royalty AU

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that this chapter’s out, some clarifications: 
> 
> In this AU, Japan is ruled by the Emperor who comes from the main Imperial family (Sakusa) that is based in Itachiyama. The country is then divided into prefectures (Inarizaki, Shiratorizawa, etc.) that are ruled over by governors who come from recognized cadet branches of the royal family (one of those being the House of Miya). Power is inherited, both in the national and local governments, following the principle of primogeniture. Only the members of the imperial family are given royal titles though. Commoners can marry into the royal family provided that they take on royal/government duties as befitting their new status. Same-sex marriages are accepted even among the royalty, but producing heirs to preserve the bloodline is a must.


	3. Look Ahead, Look Behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love, documented. Kita and Atsumu exchange letters over the years. 
> 
> AKA Osamu third-wheeling...even in letters XD and Kita channeling his inner Fitzwilliam Darcy just for a second
> 
> I know, I know. Who needs memories, right? So where did these letters come from? Let’s just say Granny Kita keeps them in a tin box, to be enjoyed when our boys grow old, while Mama Miya (lol) occasionally cleans the twins’ study (cos this is not a pigsty, Osamu, Atsumu!) and collects all of these mementos lying about to embarrass the boys with at their own weddings in the future. 
> 
> Written for #AtsukitaWeek Day 3  
> Prompts: Domestic and (a poor excuse for) Slow Dancing

[gift tag note]

1 September 2012

Kita-san,

Thank you for hearing me out and giving me a chance.  
I will prove myself to you.  
But please be careful with my heart!

Atsumu

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[letter accompanying Kita’s volleyball notebook and keys]

28 January 2013

Atsumu,

Congratulations on being named captain. Your hard work has paid off, and now you get to lead the team to greater heights.

Here are the keys to the gym. They’re now your responsibility. I am also giving you the last of my volleyball notes. There you’ll find the second and first years’ stats during our last official games and practice matches. I hope they will help you on your first few days as the leader of the club.

I consider myself lucky that I got to play with someone as talented and dedicated as you. I know people see you as this monster, a genius, on the court. But I know you’re more than that. You squeeze in every chance you’ve got to practice more, you put in the time and effort to keep on improving, you’ve always worked so hard when it comes to volleyball. We’ve only got a few years left of playing it to our hearts’ content. Let’s make it count, okay?

Take care of yourself properly so that you’re always in tip-top condition to both play and look after the team well. I hope you’ve learned your lesson about taking a proper rest when your body needs it.

Remember: I am always behind you, cheering you on.

Kita

[side note written by Osamu: Tsumu, are you sure you two are dating? And it’s not just your overactive imagination? Why is Kita-san so formal with you still?! (≧▽≦)]

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[hastily written note on hotel paper]

12 January 2014

Shinsuke-san,

You’re probably back home now. I still can’t believe our team’s finally won nationals. And yes, it’s our team because you’ve been right beside me this whole time. You keep telling me you’re behind me, cheering me on. But I don’t want that. Not in the past year, not now, and most definitely not in the future. Your place is beside me, you hear? I love you, I love you, I love you! I’m so happy my heart feels like it’s ready to burst.

Also, Samu wants to know: Did we make you proud, senpai? 

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14 March 2014

Dear Atsumu,

Congratulations on your graduation.

Your perseverance day in, day out has led you to this moment. Even when I wasn’t always close by, you made sure to follow the routines we set up months ago. And now your hard work has finally paid off. I am proud of you. 

The last few weeks, you seemed too impatient, wanting your high school years to end soon. And you’re so excited to start university. You’ve taken a great liking to our VBC motto, haven’t you? You’ve always been into the milestones, the big moments. But Atsumu, while we don’t need to dwell on the past, whatever we’ve started before and continue to do properly today and tomorrow will lead us to the goals we’ve set our sights on. Always remember that.

I await your coming to Inarizaki University. It will be a nice change, regularly playing and practicing volleyball with you once again. And don’t you forget about studying. You know we have to work on your academics; it leaves a lot to be desired for someone who will govern over the people someday.

Please continue taking proper care of yourself. 

Sincerely,

Kita Shinsuke

[note from Osamu on a post-it: Seriously, Tsumu, it’s been more than a year. Is he also like this when you two talk alone? I’m deathly curious. OUO]

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5 July 2014

Dear Shinsuke-san,

Happy 20th birthday!

You’re now legally an adult! You’ll now be free to buy alcohol and cigarettes at the convenience store. (^v^) I know, I know. Just kidding. We have to maintain our bodies in top condition and keep our wits at all times, both for volleyball and our future.

Well, did you like my little surprise? You said you didn’t want anything, and we were so busy the past weeks preparing for the tournament, but I couldn’t let the day pass without celebrating your special day. Someday it’s gonna be bigger and grander, just you wait. It’s what you deserve after all for putting up with me all this time. 

I’m stealing the limelight here, but I seriously can’t wait until it’s my turn to be an adult. You promised me, Shin-san! And I know you’re not one to go back on your word. Don’t get me wrong. I love holding your hands. They’re soft and hard in all the right places. You’re not a setter, but the way you take care of your hands (and mine!) can rival even Tobio-kun’s—and he’s one of the most anal setters I know when it comes to hand care. I also love kissing your soft lips and tasting the flavor of your lip balm. But Shin-san! We’re both healthy boys, and I can tell you (Samu will agree, I’m sure) that I’ve a very wild imagination. You’re slowly killing me, you know that? And while I respect you and your reasons, it doesn’t mean I have to like every second of this torture, right? 

“Patience, Atsumu,” is what you’re probably saying in your head now. Well, Shin-san, like what I told you years ago: I will prove myself to you—I am and I will continue doing that. So I’ll wait like the good boy that I am. But know that I’ve got a countdown going on. Fifteen months and you’ll be mine as much as I am yours. Until then, don’t be so stingy with your kisses, okay? You know I live for our make-out sessions. I love you so much.

With all my love,

Tsumu

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6 July 2014

Dear Atsumu,

Thank you for your birthday greeting and the small surprise you prepared for me. You really didn’t have to do that, but you’re a stubborn one. So I guess I really have no choice in the matter and will have to live with your constant disregard for my wishes the rest of my life. I’ve got nobody else to blame but myself, I suppose; I chose to be with you after all.

You must be thinking I’m being excessively harsh. And this, after the effort you put into surprising me. But you know me, Atsumu. You cannot force me to do something I am so dead set against. That said—while I think the small party you organized yesterday was truly unnecessary and more for your benefit, really (to assuage your guilt over my having “to put up” with you, as you mentioned in your letter)—I admit that I had lots of fun. I’ll give you that at least.

I couldn’t get the appeal of dancing without music until last night. I’m far from being a fan of it, so don’t get your hopes up. But every once in a while wouldn’t hurt, I suppose. I used to think it weird, for how can one even dance without any beat or rhythm, with no structure? Why dance at all when you cannot even do it properly?

Now I know—our hearts, beating as one—it’s all we need. Your arms, a welcome weight around my waist, guiding me. Our limbs perfectly understand what our minds, mine especially, fail to process. Your body so close to mine, as we sway to the beat of our hearts. It makes full sense to me now. Thank you for teaching me that.

Finally, to address the biggest of your concerns: You’re wrong. I’m not going to demand more patience from you when I know full well how patient you’ve grown this whole time. And so I only have this to tell you in response: I trust you, with all that I am and with everything I have. Now the ball is on your side of the court. What are you going to do about it?

Unconditionally yours, 

Shinsuke

PS Osamu, Atsumu says you’re bound to read this. Is this casual enough for you?

[Osamu’s note: LOL. What kind of love letter is this? Why is there even a PS for me? I don’t wanna be third-wheeling even in the letters. AND TSUMU, how can you even tell when he’s serious or just joking? And that last part! Nvm, I’m better off not knowing. Stop leaving your letters around so I won’t be tempted to read them.] 

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12 January 2015

My beloved Shinsuke-san,

Congratulations! Surviving that overly long and dry Coming of Age Ceremony is surely a feat. (Don’t tell chichi, but it’s really such a drag. I’m so not looking forward to attending mine next year. Let’s try to do something about that in the future, okay?)

But I gotta say, you looked really handsome in your hakama. Not that you don’t normally look good, because you do! It doesn’t matter if you’re just in your volleyball shorts and jersey. I could still look at you all day. I just mean, I’m used to seeing you in uniform and the occasional suit, but you absolutely took my breath away with how gorgeous you were in formalwear.

And that was just so unfair because I couldn’t even touch you as much as I wanted to. Not with PR Manager-san breathing down my neck the entire time. It wasn’t like I would devour you in front of hundreds of people at the shrine. Please. (I mean, I am definitely okay with that, but I know PDA isn’t your thing and I respect you. Plus, granny and your siblings were there. So, an impossible situation, really.)Besides, both chichi and haha support our decision not to hide but also not to scream our relationship to the rest of the world. I’m not about to give them another reason to be disappointed in me after that fiasco last month. The one we are never going to talk about. Ever.

Anyway, back to you and your hakama. I’m glad you heeded my plea to wear a maroon iro-montsuki and haori instead of the usual black. Which leads me to this: while you were, without a doubt, listening intently to all those boring speeches, I was trying to picture you on our wedding day. You’ll probably be sticking to the proper kuroo-montsuki haori hakama. I won’t even complain about the dull color because I know you’ll still look delectable in it, that you’ll be wanting your family crests highlighted, and that it’s the proper wear for such a formal event. But you should know, unless forced by my parents (which I highly doubt they’d ever do), I don’t plan on wearing a black one, okay? I will most definitely be choosing something that will showcase my vibrant personality. 

But before you even shoot me down for daydreaming about our wedding, allow me to clarify: Yes, it’s a given you are joining the House of Miya eventually. That it’s going to be through marriage with me, and not just through service to the family, is a welcome development. (I think chichi wants you as his son more than me and Osamu combined.) And: No, this is not a wedding proposal. I promise you, you’ll know when I’m finally, officially proposing to you. (Unless you want to be the one to do the proposal. I’m down for that.)

Let me put it in no uncertain terms: You are the love of my life, and I want you by my side for as long as you’ll have me. And if it pleases you, I offer myself to you, faithfully and with a burning passion. Love is too inadequate of a word for what I feel for you. And what we have, Shinsuke, what we share, it’s bigger than us. So, while I may be thinking of the day we marry, please be assured that I am in no way in such a hurry. You’re it for me, I’m afraid. And as you can see, I am actually at your mercy. I love you and I feel so honored to receive your love in return.

Just a bit more, my love, and we can finally and properly enjoy ~all~ those adult things together. (*^^*) I, of course, am talking about granny’s homemade sake. Really. What did you think I was referring to? (^○^)

Yours most faithfully,

Atsumu

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11 January 2016

My dear Atsumu,

Congratulations on your coming of age! How’s it been so far, being 20?

How were the speeches at the ceremony? Don’t tell me you fell asleep. I’m sure your father dropped some inside jokes in his speech just for you and Osamu. And I, unlike you the year before, had no problem keeping my hands off of you despite how dashing you looked in your hakama. Perhaps it’s because I’ve had more chances of seeing you in formalwear than you do of me. It can’t really be helped, when you’ve been quite famous since you were a kid. It is what it is.

I admit, however, that I‘ve indulged in a little daydream. Just for a few minutes and nothing racy, sorry to disappoint. (That’s more you than me, anyway.) I thought about how different our lives would be if we were just Shinsuke and Atsumu. You’d probably pursue playing volleyball professionally, and I’d be off farming. We wouldn’t be able to spend much of our time together with you training in the city and me toiling on the fields. But then we’d be more mindful of our schedules, making sure our days off matched every so often, and the pockets of time we’d have to ourselves we’d be sure to cherish until the next time we could see each other again. And I doubt I’d miss you a lot; I don’t think I would, not really. Well, not as much as I know you’d tell me you missed me. But that’d only be because even in an alternate world like that, I know I could count on you to stick to the routines we’ve established early on in our relationship. Good morning messages, notes and letters here and there, evening calls. The both of us so sure of our love for each other. So no, I wouldn’t miss you a lot. Perhaps just a little.

Then I thought of how you’d come home to me after a week of grueling practices and matches, of how I’d be waiting for you with your favorite dishes on the table and a warm bath ready for you. I imagined how, early in the morning as I’d try to rise to get ready for farm work, you’d close in on me, trapping me in your arms, asking for _just five minutes more, Shin_ in that husky voice you have when you haven’t gotten enough sleep yet, exactly the way you’ve done the handful of times we got to spend the night together.

And just like that, Atsumu, I realized there was no point in daydreaming because it’s us. We’re going to be together and I don’t need to imagine another future when it’s already a given that you’re going to be in mine. There’s no sense in thinking of the what ifs when we’re going to go to work together, spend a lot of time in each other’s company, and most importantly go home together. And in the rare occasions you need to travel without me by your side, I’d still get to wait for you to come home to me. I’d get to prepare your favorite food and draw a bath for you.

And what do you think of children, Atsumu? You’ll need an heir, heirs preferably. So any children we’re going to have in the future would have to be biologically yours. But I’d love them just the same, as if they were my own. And they will most definitely be ours. I think you’re one to go for the cool dad approach with our kids, just like your father, and you’ll make me be the disciplinarian between the two of us. But I know you, Atsumu; you cannot fool me. You’ll be all smiles and gifts and _yeah, you can do whatever so long’s you’re happy_ , but you’ll most definitely be the one to nag about practicing lots if they want to be good at something, giving it their all if they want it bad enough, and never ever giving up no matter what. And I’m also pretty sure you’ll be the overprotective one when they get old enough to start dating.

Atsumu, you’ve learned to be patient with me, so it’s only fair that I also learn how to be more vocal with my affections for you. While I have no need for your constant declarations of love, more secured in the acts that you do with me and for me day in, day out, I am honest enough to admit that hearing you say such things makes my heart skip, if only for a bit. And so, I shall endeavor to tell you more often how ardently I love you.

You are like the sun, Atsumu. You shine so bright that sometimes I need to step back and face away from you for a second and regroup. Though it’s never for too long, and then I start wishing to bask in your warmth again. Please never lose your light. Sometimes I am afraid your passion is too intense and that you might someday burnout. But I’ve realized that that passion is what lights you up more, the way the sun feeds on its own heat and power to continue providing all of us with its light. Continue to shine bright, my love. I hope you know just how much your love means to me.

Yours always and forever,

Shinsuke

* * *

24 June 2018

My dear child,

Summer heat’s upon us. I hope you’re faring well. If the recent news are to be believed, I’m glad you seem to be doing better than the last time I saw you.

I don’t deserve it, and the all-seeing gods know it just as well, but the unbearable heaviness that for so long weighed me down has finally been lifted now that I know you have finally and truly moved on. 

I owe you an apology, dear Atsumu-kun. Forgive this old woman for meddling. Please believe me when I say that I welcomed you into my home as if you were my own all those times Shinsuke brought you along for a visit. But please understand, you’ve got everyone else rallying behind your back while Shinsuke’s only got me and his siblings in his corner.

When you came and asked me about my grandson that fated day two summers ago, I should have given you something from him. I’m sorry that I withheld something that could’ve changed the course of your lives. I should have trusted his word that everything would work out for the better eventually. I should have put faith in your ability to not rashly act and make things potentially worse for him, the way Shinsuke’s always believed in your abilities and decision-making. Then maybe I could have spared you both years of unhappiness. It’s in the past now and you’ve finally moved on. I see no harm now, letting the ghosts of the past rest in peace. I’m sending you what should’ve been yours from the very start.

I am forever at your mercy because of this transgression. I deeply apologize for all the unnecessary trouble and hurt I caused you. I can only hope for the day when you can finally find it in yourself to forgive me.

Things may not have worked out between you and Shinsuke, and a big part of that was because of me, but I am happy that you now have someone great by your side to love you the way you deserve.Congratulations on your impending nuptials with Prince Kiyoomi, Atsumu-kun. Please accept our humble gift; these fruits were all picked fresh and with great care. I pray for your health and safety, as always. It’s the least I could do.

Most humbly and sincerely,

Kita Yumie 


	4. Don’t Need To Make A Fuss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shinsuke gets by with a little help from his family and friends. 
> 
> AKA Kita Everything-Is-Fine Shinsuke is back with a vengeance. And more importantly, back on the market, much to the delight of countless farmers, their spouses, and their single adult children. XD 
> 
> Kita family OCs here, just letting you know :) And still no answers to be found in this chapter, sorry, but I hope you enjoy the Inarizaki 3rd years’ friendship 
> 
> Written for Day 4 of #AtsukitaWeek  
> Prompts: (a teensy bit) Alluring and (not really) Celebrity AU

**_3 August 2018_ **

They’re once again at Shinsuke’s house. While it meant an hour and a half’s worth of driving from the city center, the fact that their former captain’s abode is quite sizable with a generous “backyard garden” (Michinari: _It’s a field, more like, Shinsuke._ ) that allows them to enjoy the summer night under the stars has Michinari, Alan, and Ren willingly spending the night out of town for their monthly boys’ night out.

They all decided back in May—while out in Osaka to watch the Kurowashiki finals—to reserve the first Saturday of the month as their regular bonding night. With Alan’s team being eliminated during the semi-finals, he was able to join the other three in the stands. And since it’s still off-season for him, they haven’t had any conflicts with their designated day coinciding with his matches and official training.

In June, they met up at an izakaya but it was too crowded and loud for them to actually enjoy catching up with one another. The following month, they celebrated Shinsuke’s birthday in this very same house together with his family. And that was when they finally coaxed their gray-haired friend to host their bonding nights at least until October, when the V.League season starts again.

“Where’s Eiji-kun?” Michinari asks from where he’s seated at the edge of the table they set up outside. “I got the manga he’s been wanting to read but is out of print. One of my VBC boys gave me his copy.”

“Oh, he’s staying with granny on the farm,” Shinsuke explains as he hands out plates and chopsticks to everyone. “A bit of a hassle for him he says, with me having my own house now. Gotta choose where to go every free weekend he’s got. Though I think he’s complaining too much when he’s actually being spoiled for choice.”

“I bet he loves it, having you and granny to visit most weekends,” Ren says with a smile, eager to dig into the sashimi that’s laid out on the table. “Is he gonna be staying at your sister’s when he starts university next year?”

“Nah, most probably not,” Shinsuke shakes his head. “Ayaka-neesan’s having her baby before the year ends, and Eiji says he doesn’t want to be in the way. So I’m getting an apartment close to IU soon, and he’s gonna be moving in with me. It’s easier for me, too, when I have back-to-back Chanto meetings in the city lined up.”

“That’d be cool, Shinsuke!” Michinari exclaims as he waves his chopsticks in the air. “We’ll get to meet more often with you staying in the city again.” Shinsuke, in contrast to his friend’s highly energetic statement, merely shrugs and starts eating.

“But isn’t this your sister’s second baby?” Alan asks. “And their house is bigger than most in that area. Eiji-kun won’t really be in the way. I wonder what he’s thinking.”

The scene they make after that statement is quite comical. Ren’s eyes slightly go round as he looks at Alan, as if telling him _What the hell_ , _Good luck_ , and _I can’t believe you_ without any need for words. Michinari, also wide-eyed and still chewing his last bite of meat, shifts his gaze between the two of them. Alan, who has finally realized why the youngest Kita would give up his comfortable room in his sister’s husband’s large family house to live in (what’d most probably be) a cramped city apartment with their friend, goes as pale as a sheet.

Shinsuke, eyeing his three friends impassively, merely sighs and says, “He wants to look after me, that boy. As if I need any looking after. I’m perfectly fine. Everything’s fine.”

All three turn to him. Alan starts to open his mouth, but closes it again immediately. He blinks thrice. Finally: “Why don’t you say it one more time? Might make it true then,” he says.

Michinari cackles like mad, shouting, “Hear, hear!” in between peals of laughter. Even Ren lets out several chuckles. But the former captain just resumes eating, ignoring his friends’ fun at his expense.

Eventually, the laughter dies down, and Shinsuke takes the opportunity to follow up on an offer he previously made to Alan. “Have you reviewed your team’s sponsorship contract?” he asks. “Think you can help me promote our products?”

“Yeah, sure did,” the wing spiker says. “But I don’t think I can help you this time. We’re tied promoting East Tobacco Ltd. so long’s we’re part of the team. And you wouldn’t want that being associated with your organic products, no matter how much farmers may be fond of smoking.”

Shinsuke sighs. “You’re right. Still, I need someone for our print ads. Anybody you guys can recommend? I’m at my wits’ end.”

Michinari, reaching for another piece of meat, shakes his head. Alan shrugs his shoulders as he drinks his beer. Ren, though, has a thoughtful look on his face.

The tallest of the group asks, “Why don’t _you_ do it? I mean, you’re good-looking.” (Michinari: _Ren, you got something you wanna admit to us?!_ ) He continues as if he hasn’t been interrupted at all. “You’re a legit part of the co-op, and you got quite popular these past few months, what with the wedding rumors going around. Milk it for all it’s worth, is all I’m saying.”

He then turns to his friend-turned-high-school-volleyball-coach, “Don’t tell me you don’t agree he’s attractive. Even my own girlfriend thinks he’s _alluring_ , of all things, and I’m starting to think she might like him more than me.”

That earns a hearty laugh from Shinsuke, who only says, “We’ll see,” with tears in his eyes two minutes later.

***

_**7 September 2018** _

The gang is back in Shinsuke’s house. The weather’s still pretty warm, so they set up the table outside again. In the middle of their dinner, Michinari excuses himself for a few minutes to get something from his car. He comes back with nicely wrapped gift that Eiji guesses is a framed poster or blown-up photograph.

He hands it to Shinsuke and says, “Here. It’s two months late, but I got you a birthday present. Go on, open it.”

Shinsuke thanks him and gestures for the younger Kita to help him unwrap the gift. He’s pretty sure his brother’s guess is correct. It so happens that the front faces Eiji, who lets out a loud laugh upon seeing the picture. He turns the thing around so his oniichan can see it for himself. 

Shinsuke has an amused expression on his face; his cheeks, though, redden a bit. “Thank you,” he tells Michinari. “Though I don’t know how you came up with the idea that I like looking at myself often enough that you even got a poster with my face on it from the supermarket and even decided to frame it.”

He says it with the least bit of emotion, which causes everyone around him to laugh all the more. When they finally quiet down, Eiji offers to take the present to his brother’s room and excuses himself from the table.

“How’s the sales then, Shinsuke?” Ren asks. “And you still haven’t thanked me for giving you such a brilliant suggestion.” 

“Really, Ren? You’re saying that now?” Shinsuke gives him an unimpressed look. “When you just went behind my back and had your girlfriend—the secretary at Chanto main office, no less—casually make the suggestion to the president?” 

The tall man met his friend’s gaze head on and simply replied, “Still solved your problem about the ads, didn’t I? Now, how’s the sales?”

“Fine,” he answers. “Everything’s just fine.” This earns him snorts from everyone at the table.

It’s at this point that Eiji returns to the table and tells his brother’s friends the good news. “‘Niichan’s print ads are a hit, so they’re gonna be shooting a TV commercial next week!”

“Oh, would you look at that, Shinsuke,” Alan says. “You’re becoming a proper celebrity. Why don’t you sign a poster for me now and maybe I can sell it online next year? That’ll help me pay for the expenses at my own wedding.”

“Ehhh, Alan, you’re getting married?!” 

***

_**5 October 2018** _

It’s probably the last time in a while that they’ll get to spend the weekend at Shinsuke’s house. The V.League season begins mid-October, and at the end of the month the two Kita brothers will be moving into their apartment in the city. And so they make the most out of their gathering tonight.

Granny and the heavily pregnant Ayaka and her husband join them. For it’s also tonight that the new Chanto Co-op commercial will be aired on national TV. So they set up the buffet table in the kitchen, but everyone’s eating and enjoying the casual conversations in front of the TV in the living room.

It’s nearly half-past seven, and all are waiting excitedly for Shinsuke’s TV appearance. The news anchor’s just given the cue for a commercial break, and all eyes are on the screen.

The commercial is just 20 seconds long, and Shinsuke’s seen for only half of it. And yet everyone’s delighted at having someone they know appear on TV. They’re all in high spirits, good-naturedly teasing the man, whose red face now resembles a tomato.

But the commercial break’s soon over, and a somber atmosphere envelopes the place as the news anchor resumes her rundown of today’s top events. Because, really, how could they’ve forgotten the date.

> _“Prince Kiyoomi travels to Inarizaki to personally greet the twins of the House of Miya on their 23rd birthday. Photographs of the prince and the Miya heir, Atsumu, spending time at a local cafe have surfaced online, prompting another string of wedding rumors bet—”_

The TV is suddenly turned off, and all eyes are on Ayaka. “Sorry, Shin-chan, took me a while to reach the remote,” she says with a sad smile. “You gotta forgive your pregnant oneesan for moving so slowly.” 

“You didn’t have to do that, Ayaka-nee,” he answers with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m fine, promise.”

A beat passes. Then two. Finally, Alan—bless him—breaks the silence the best way he knows how. “Well, that’s what now, the fiftieth time you’ve said that? Repeated it enough times already; gotta be true by now then.”

It doesn’t take long after that for the atmosphere to feel light again.

\- - -

“You want me to set you up with someone, Shinsuke?” The four of them are in the kitchen, cleaning up the mess from dinner. Ayaka and her husband left half an hour ago while Eiji is currently helping granny settle down for the night in the room reserved for her in the house. Michinari, fed up with the whole Shinsuke-Atsumu breakup thing coupled with the Atsumu-Prince Kiyoomi wedding rumors, has decided that the best way to help his friend is to encourage him to start dating again.

“What,” Alan is quick to shoot down the idea, “wanna set him up with single teachers at your school—the ones who work more hours than Shinsuke—so they can start their relationship over their shared love of overtime work? I don’t think so.” He turns to his other friend. “How about someone from my team? Or the women’s team? I can have Nao ask her teammates if they’re interested.”

“Please, the both of you, stop,” Shinsuke says with a hard gaze. “Alan, don’t even try getting your fiancee to join you in your shenanigans. And Michinari, you’re a terrible matchmaker. ‘Sides, I’m really not interested in dating any time soon.”

Ren rolls his eyes. He actually rolls his eyes at Shinsuke, and the two other members of their group laugh at that. He turns to his grey-haired friend, “That, and the fact that you have to turn down so many omiai requests from various Chanto farmers and their spouses, all looking to have you as their son-in-law.” He ends his piece with a smirk.

Shinsuke frowns at this, “Don’t remind me. It’s bad enough when the farmers are just hinting at it, but lately many of them have been asking me to visit them in their farms instead so that I can meet the whole family. It’s a nuisance, to be honest. Feels like I’m the one being evaluated instead of the other way around.”

\- - -

He makes his way to granny’s room to bid her good night just as his friends start getting ready for bed.

“‘Baahan, ready for bed?” he asks as soon as he gets permission to enter the room.

“Shin-chan, come here for a while,” she gestures for him to come closer and sit on the chair beside her bed. She holds his hand, her touch so light and gentle. “You know you don’t have to lie to me. Have you called Atsumu-kun?”

“I don’t think there’s a need to, ‘Baahan,” he says, his voice just as quiet and gentle as his grandmother’s touch. “It’s been more than five months since you sent him my letter, and he knows I’ve been back since April. But he’s not said anything and I don’t think he’s going to anytime soon now. If the rumors are true, he might not want anything to do with me...ever.”

“I’m sorry, Shinsuke.” Granny has tears in her eyes. Her left hand is still holding her grandson’s hand near her heart, but she moves her right hand to softly caress his cheek. “It’s all my fault. Had I sent him that letter as soon as you were gone, you wouldn’t have been this unhappy.”

“It is what it is, ‘Baahan,” he responds, his eyes shining with emotion that he very rarely shows. “There’s no point thinking about the what ifs now. I’m gonna be fine.”

***

_**7 December 2018** _

As luck would have it, they had six months of uninterrupted first-Saturday-of-the-month mini reunions. But with the V.League back in season and the Kita brothers moving into an apartment in the city at the end of October, the scheduled get together on the second of November didn’t pan out.

And so, on the first Saturday of December, they meet up at the popular yakiniku restaurant near the sports complex that Alan’s team uses exclusively. He has a game scheduled for tomorrow, so they’ve decided to have lunch instead of dinner. Shinsuke’s just come back from his grandmother’s farm, having overseen the winter harvest there. Michinari’s made a slight change in the practice schedule of his school’s VBC just to free up his afternoon.

Their conversations were light, the topics varied. Alan talks about his team’s odds at making it to the top this season while Ren shares about his younger siblings’ excessive attachment to his girlfriend. It’s something he finds a bit vexing, especially with the way they ask about when he’s making her an official part of the family. Michinari tells them about his boys’ matches the previous month. As for Shinsuke, they make him recount all the marriage proposals he’s gotten since his commercial came out two months ago.

As they head toward the restaurant’s cash till to settle their bill, the breaking news coming from TV set placed by the waiting area grabs their attention.

> _“The magnitude 9 earthquake, which registered the maximum 7 on the Japanese scale, has caused tremendous damage in the northeastern part of the country—”_

“Together or separately?” asks the smiling grandpa manning the cash register. To which Ren politely answers, “Separately, please.”

> _“Princes Kiyoomi and Motoya are reported missing after the huge earthquake that shocked the nation. Details are still unclear, but there seems to have been some breach at security protocols—”_

It’s now Alan who’s speaking with the grandpa to settle his share of the bill, with both Ren and Michinari having already paid for theirs. Shinsuke’s wallet is out as he waits for his turn.

> _“Inarizaki’s House of Miya confirms heir Atsumu’s scheduled visit to Itachiyama to see Prince Kiyoomi. The family’s spokesperson admits they have yet to establish contact with him following reports of the princes’ disappearance, fears the three men might’ve been trapped—”_

Shinsuke’s arms fall to the side, and his wallet drops to the ground. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taking a break tomorrow; next chapter’s for Day 6 prompts


	5. Trust the Signs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Call it twin intuition, but Osamu is sure Atsumu’s safe and kicking (someone’s ass) somewhere.
> 
> AKA Miya Twins brotherly love, or Stupid Tsumu making a fool of himself as witnessed by one Miya Osamu
> 
> Written for #AtsukitaWeek Day 6   
> [ There’s AtsuKita here, somewhere; I promise (>^_^<) ]
> 
> Prompt: Childhood (like just two out of a bunch of flashbacks and not really involving AtsuKita but it’s there, so it still counts, right?)

_**October 2015**_ , 20 years old (Inarizaki University, second year)

“So you’re serious about Kita-san, right?” It’s the twins’ birthday but it’s a weekday, so aside from a birthday dinner with their parents, all other celebrations (with the rest of the family, their boyfriends, and their friends) are scheduled for the weekend instead. They’re in the study, finishing a few things for school as they’ll be busy with volleyball and lots of partying on the weekend. “Serious, as in you wanting to marry him eventually?”

“Yeah,” he answers with a nod. “You know this already, so why’re you still asking? Even otouhan and okaahan are okay with it. Shinsuke-san’s training to be one of my advisors with their approval and blessing after all. You got a problem with him?”

“Nah,” Osamu shakes his head. “If anything, I pity Kita-san. He’s gonna be looking after your sorry ass for a long time. That’s torture.”

“Whatever,” is all Atsumu says. He’s bent on finishing his paper that’s due Monday. But he feels like something’s bothering his brother, and he can no longer concentrate on his task knowing that. He turns to him fully and asks, “Are you being like this ‘cause now we’re adults?” Concern is evident in his voice, but because he’s a grade A shit he turns immediately to teasing. “Donkt you worry, Samu; we’ve got someone to look over our taxes, and that’s the scariest and most troublesome part of being an adult, I firmly believe.”

“Haha, you think you’re so funny, but you got nothing on Alan-kun.” It takes him a while before he continues though, as if he needed a moment more to collect his thoughts. “What do you think of Rin, Tsumu?”

 _Ah_ , muses Atsumu, _so he wants my blessing, eh_? “You asking me if I like Sunarin that way? The hell’s wrong with you?! Even if he comes onto me ‘cause he’s finally realized I’m the better Miya twin, ya know I’m faithful to Shinsuke-san.”

“Stupid,” his brother whacks his head with a (thankfully) thin book.

“What’s this really about, Samu?” He waits a long time before his brother answers though.

“Tsumu, you remember five years ago?” Osamu finally says, but this time with amusement lacing his voice, as if he’s already forgotten the tension he’s caused just minutes before.

Atsumu’s not sure where his brother’s going with his questioning though he’s some inkling of getting humiliated at the end of this conversation, so he answers vaguely. “Our 15th birthday? What about it?”

“Only you told me about your ideal partner—” Osamu smirks.

 _Oh shit_ , thinks Atsumu, _he’s onto that_.

“—and how I’m thinking it’s so unlike Kita-san,” he finishes with a laugh. “Figures, either you don’t get married ‘cause of your stupid standards, or you marry the total opposite of what you wanted.” 

Then, when Atsumu’s mind is already elsewhere (because really how stupid was he, wanting someone like that), Osamu finally goes in for the kill. “Rin makes me happy, Tsumu.”

_**~Three years prior~  
**_ ** _September 2012_** , 16 years old (Inarizaki HS, second year)

“Samu!” Atsumu enters his room with a shout. His twin didn’t even bother knocking, the uncouth swine. “Kita-san said yes! We’re now dating!”

“Finally, Tsumu,” Osamu says with a sigh.

“Hey!” the blond shakes his brother’s arms. “Aren’t you happy for me? Weren’t you the one always telling me I’m being a wimp, keeping my admiration for Kita-san a secret for so long?”

“I stopped saying that months ago, Tsumu.” He shoves his brother away. “How’s it a secret when everyone on the team knows, you fool? You weren’t being subtle at all. ‘Sides, you just made me lose 5,000 yen. Rin and I’ve a bet going on about when you’re gonna confess to Kita-san. I said on or after our birthday, ‘cause you’re stupid like that. Why couldn’t you have waited a few weeks more?”

“What d’you mean you and Suna were betting on me confessing?” Atsumu’s trying to be angry, but his happiness is much too overpowering at this time; it’s close to impossible. “You two are terrible together. I’m really better off in Gin’s company.”

Osamu snorts. “That’s ‘cause Gin always agrees with you. I like him alright, but there’s no denying he’s loyal to you. So if you’ve got Gin, I have Rin on my side of the court.”

The blond’s getting a little bit worked up. “It ain’t like that though? Suna’s also my friend. Why you gotta turn him against me, Samu?”

“Nobody’s doing anything close to what you’re saying, Tsumu,” Osamu answers. “Just that,” he looks at his brother with a hint of apprehension on his face, “I’m dating Rin and we didn’t wanna upset you—” Then his face morphs into one that suggests he’s currently having the time of his life. “—Cause we’re sure you’re gonna be sulking knowing I got to start dating ahead of you.”

“What the hell, Samu?! Forget about me for a second. Go on, spill!”

_**~Four years prior~  
**_ _ **September 2011**_ , 15 years old (Inarizaki HS, first year)

Atsumu and Osamu love volleyball.

When they were nine years old, their father had to give a speech at the opening ceremony of a national volleyball tournament Inarizaki was hosting at that time. He brought them with him so they could watch the opening games and see if they’d be interested.

Before that, their parents had introduced them to different sports. Their mother wanted them to experience everything the average Japanese child experiences despite their lineage, no matter how far removed the House of Miya is from the main Imperial family. To her, that means kurabu katsudo, lots and lots of bukatsu—and that entails exposing them to various activities so that they could make an informed decision once they reach junior high school. 

They tried basketball, but Osamu felt uncomfortable, especially with the close contact with kids he wasn’t really familiar with that the sport entailed. Then came soccer, but Atsumu complained about getting a farmer’s tan and his skin breaking out because of too much exposure to the sun. With that, baseball was scratched off the list without them even trying it out first.

So when they got to witness a live volleyball match, they were entranced. Osamu wouldn’t have to closely deal with strangers as the net would separate him and his team from the others. Atsumu could play and practice for hours in the indoor court without fear of the sun damaging his sensitive skin.

And so their mother enrolled them in the volleyball clinic hosted by their city the following summer. There they met Alan-kun and experienced the joy of spiking a ball. By the end of the event, they’d both fallen in love for the first time in their life—with volleyball.

But while Osamu loves volleyball quite a lot, Atsumu is in love with it like a man obsessed with a woman. Perhaps it’s because he knows they won’t get to do it for long, like he’s a man slowly drowning and volleyball is his lifeline, holding onto it as hard as he could. That while their parents want them to be as normal as possible while growing up and in school, they’re destined for something else, most especially Atsumu. 

And it’s precisely because of that raw want in his brother, that ever desperate need to get better the soonest time possible before he has to let go of the sport, that he’s gotten so demanding on the court. Atsumu lives and breathes volleyball and won’t let scrubs waste his time and talent when he has only a few years left playing the sport to his heart’s content.

That’s why, since they joined the Boys’ VBC at Inarizaki HS and got chosen to be regular members despite being first years, he’s been outrightly ignoring the benchwarmers. He even has the audacity not to give their non-starter senpais the time of day. As Suna is also first-string, Ginjima is the sole exception to this, and only because he is classmates with the setter. With their team placing third at the Inter-high National Tournament, Atsumu’s become all the more insufferable.

Today, Coach Kurosu wants them to practice their serves—and Atsumu’s intent on perfecting his jump float. While he’s got his jump serve down to a t, he needs to improve the accuracy of his other serve. But while most of the players practice serving, the coach has the liberos and the defensive specialists on the other side of the net to receive the serves.

And that’s when it happens, much to Osamu’s delight. Atsumu finally gets his comeuppance.

There’s Kita-san, a second-year _reserve_ wing spiker and defensive specialist in training, on the other side of the court. They’ve never had the chance to see him in action, not really. For even when they have practice games amongst themselves, it’s the third year second-string members whom they get to go up against. But there he is, stoic and quiet (Atsumu: and _boring_ ) Kita-san, cleanly receiving every one of Atsumu’s disgusting serves. Which only results in his brother getting more and more fired up to do a service ace, but eventually becoming more and more frustrated at his inability to do so and against a reserve player at that.

 _Serves him right_ , thinks Osamu. _The arrogant bastard_. 

Hours later, before parting ways to head to their respective rooms, he hears Atsumu—who’s been rather quiet after their practice—murmur to himself, “...how come I’ve never noticed him before....”

_Oh fuck._

_**~Five years prior~  
**_ _ **October 2010**_ , 15 years old (Yako JHS, third year)

“You got lotsa gifts from the girls in our school, Tsumu. Seems they already forgot what happened last year.” Osamu’s helping his brother carry the countless gift bags he’s received from his “fans” into the living room, where they will be sorted into the to-be-kept and to-be-donated boxes. And knowing his twin, he’s pretty sure most of it’s going to donations. “I get dibs on all the food, ‘kay?” He says this with a smile, always eager to sample delicious goods.

While Osamu’s enjoying his pick of cupcakes, pastries, and chocolates (he’s saving the ones he himself got for the next few days), Atsumu’s busy going through the rest of the gifts with his nose scrunched up in distaste.

“Whath goth chu lookin’ lai tha?” asks Osamu, whose mouth is full with the chocolate cupcake he’s currently trying.

“Gross, Samu!” The older looks at him in disgust. “There’s so many of these.” Atsumu’s holding several stuffed toys, and soon they’re haphazardly placed in the to-be-donated box. “The hell do they think I’m gonna be doing with all that?”

Osamu lets out a hearty laugh. “Look, you made many girls cry last year ‘cause you posted a picture online—of you feeding animals with the food your fans gave you, even tagging them on your post. Okaahan wasn’t sure whether to laugh at you for being true to your ridiculous and mean self or scold you for making poor PR Manager-san work overtime again.” Atsumu throws a stuffed pig straight to his face, but he ducks just in time. “The year before that you told them they got shit taste for gifting you with substandard volleyball apparel and gear. They gotta try something else this year, yeah? Though it beats me why they think stuffed toys would make you happy. I’m just glad some of the first years probably never heard of what you did before and still gave you food.” He takes a bite then holds out the pastry he’s eating. “Hmm, thith tho gooth.” 

“I was just being honest though, and even _you_ didn’t wanna touch those things I gave to the cats,” Atsumu says, pointing a finger toward his twin, who just ignores him.

After a few minutes of silence, he starts again, “Well, Hanyu-senshu gives away all the Pooh-san toys he receives. Donating this to sick kids shouldn’t make me look bad.” Finally, he’s done sorting through everything they brought in. “You better tell otouhan when he asks later that I was all smiles while receiving these gifts. Don’t wanna get scolded for not behaving appropriately again.”

“That’s right. Oton trusts me to keep an eye on you, Tsumu.” Osamu’s smirk widens. “‘Cause I’ve always been the better Miya twin.”

“Better twin my ass,” Atsumu responds with an exaggerated eye roll. “You’re always trying to get me caught beating your lousy ass in the worst times possible.” 

\- - -

After their birthday dinner, where their parents asked them teasingly if they were already interested in dating seeing as they’re already _fifteen_ , the twins head to their shared study to finish their homework.

“So you got any crushes, Samu?” Atsumu starts. “How about the school lunch lady? I’m sure you’d like to date someone like her, the way you always praise her cooking.” He laughs at his brother’s murderous look.

“Shut up, Tsumu!” While it’s true he’s taken a liking to the school lunch lady who, he knows, is in charge of desserts (on days they have it on the menu anyway), it’s nothing romantic like what his brother’s insinuating. “And what about you? Wanna date Natsu-chan? She’s so into you, it’s sickening if I’m being honest.”

“Eew.” There goes his scrunched up nose again. “Not my type at all. You’ll see, Samu, I’m gonna marry someone so nice you’ll have no choice but to agree I am the luckier twin.”

“Oya? What’s she like then? I bet it’s nothing even close to the guy I’m gonna marry.”

“You already know gender doesn’t matter to me. But they’re gonna be so gorgeous everyone’s gonna be jealous they’re dating me and only me. They’re really sweet and caring and all smiles, always telling me they love me—someone that’ll need my loving and protecting—but also playful and flirty and sexy when we’re alone. Serious, boring people don’t appeal to me; they gotta love life the way I do for us to click. And they should be into volleyball as well. A dedicated, knowledgable fan is okay, but if they’re playing they gotta be real good, first string level and that’s nonnegotiable. I ain’t dating no volleyball scrub, let alone marry one, ya know that. And they gotta be smart, of course that’s a given, but definitely not smarter than me. I ain’t a fan of being told off and proven wrong all the time.”

“Wow,” Osamu says after letting all that information sink in. “That’s oddly specific. Good luck finding someone that meets all your expectations, Tsumu. You might wanna lower your standards or you’ll end up alone the rest of your life. But don’t you worry; if that ever happens, my future husband and I will just provide the heir you need.”

“And you’re sure you’ll find someone willing to marry you, you pig?” Atsumu shoots back. “He gotta be so rich he can buy you all the food you wanna eat.” 

“Duh, Tsumu, I got enough money to buy myself food,” Osamu counters. “There’s only one thing I want from a partner: that he makes me happy. I’m sure I ain’t gonna have a hard time finding someone like that.”

* * *

_**June 2018**_ , 22 years old

Osamu was only joking when he sent the screenshot to his brother. He’s known that Atsumu’s been keeping something from him a few couple of months now, but the more he thinks about recent events, the surer he gets that something or someone is behind Kita’s disappearance and the wedding rumors surrounding his twin.

But he’s never pegged their own grandmother to be the one orchestrating everything.

“She’s been asking me to give it a chance, since even before our birthday,” Atsumu tells him. “Apparently, hiiojiisan, bless his soul, saved the then Crown Prince during the war. That’s the Emperor Emeritus. And as a reward, it was promised that our families would one day be joined again in marriage. Ojiisan was too young for any of the princesses from the main Imperial family. Otouhan’s too in love with okaahan to even consider anything of that sort.”

“But if ojiisan himself didn’t force otouhan,” asks Osamu, “why’s obaahan making you do it?” 

“Maybe she wanted it for otouhan, but ojiisan wouldn’t hear of it?” guesses Atsumu. “I don’t really know. But she’s been pretty insistent the last few times we met to talk about it.”

“And if it’s the wish of the Emperor Emeritus to have the promise fulfilled in his lifetime,” ventures Osamu, “then obaahan’s got herself an ally.”

He observes his brother. The entire time they’ve been talking, not once has he raised his voice. Neither has he complained. He’s actually been taking it all as if it were a given, something that will inevitably happen.

“Do you think obaahan’s behind Kita-san’s move to Shiratorizawa?” Osamu still has a few things he wants clarified. “So that, you know, there ain’t gonna be any complications on your part?”

Atsumu shrugs. He remains quiet for a little longer. When he finally answers, there’s a sense of resignation evident in his voice. “Maybe...who knows? Or perhaps it’s just fate being cruel that while obaahan has her thing, Granny Kita also has her reasons for keeping Shinsuke away from me.” 

“What I don’t understand is, why you wanna do what obaahan wants,” cried Osamu. “This is so not you, Tsumu. Even without Kita-san in the picture, why would you even consider an arranged marriage?” He looks both perplexed and annoyed. “Unless you do find the prince to your liking?” 

“Prince Omi’s fine,” there goes Atsumu shrugging again. It seems like it’s all he does lately. “He’s no Kita Shinsuke, obviously, but that’s neither here nor there. We’ve simply agreed to consider the union for now.”

“‘Sides, consider it my advanced wedding gift for you and Sunarin.”

Osamu knows his twin well enough to understand what he’s saying between the lines. _You still haven’t changed, Tsumu. Always thinking about me first._

**_~Two years prior~  
_** _ **May 2016**_ , 20 yrs old (Inarizaki University, third year)

When Atsumu blunders and causes PR Manager-san to gain more white hair and wrinkles, their parents are not above scolding him and giving him punishments.

Not this time though. Their father, upon hearing about the fistfight involving Atsumu, personally apologized to the president of the university and their coach. Knowing full well the effect of Kita’s sudden disappearance on his twin, their parents simply told his brother that while he had the right to feel angry, he certainly did not have the right to hurt others. 

“Samu, I think it’s time for me to quit volleyball.”

_But you’ve got two years more.   
But you won’t be able to play this way again.   
But aren’t you in love with volleyball?_

Osamu has quite a few things he’d like to say, but he finds it difficult to give voice to even just one of them.

After a while, he finally manages to respond, “Alright, let’s do that.” When Atsumu tells him he does not need to give the sport up for him, he merely raises a brow at his twin. Much as they love their parents and each other and show that love in multiples ways, being vocal about it is not one of them. But he understands Atsumu, and his brother seems to understand him just as clearly. 

\- - -

With volleyball out of the picture, they have one less thing to occupy themselves with. Even with the additional leadership training they’re getting at the request of their father, there exists a void in their everyday life that the sport used to occupy.

Osamu would have been grateful for all the free time he now gets to enjoy, if only his twin didn’t seem to be on the verge of depression.

So on Friday night, with their parents on a business trip and they have the house to themselves, he pesters Atsumu. He tells him Rin has practice early in the morning when his brother asks why he won’t bother his boyfriend instead.

“Come on, Tsumu.” He half drags his twin to the kitchen. “I asked the staff to get you enough fatty tuna to heal your broken heart. Was thinking of making some onigiri tonight, but if ya want we can do sushi instead.”

And that’s Osamu’s way of showing he cares for Atsumu. He can count in one hand the number of times he’s actually told his twin he loves him, but he’s sure his brother knows it. He’s always had it easier, he believes. Less pressure, less fawning, fewer expectations, but the same love from their parents. More importantly, he has a (slightly) older brother who’s always been by his side. If Atsumu refuses to do any of the work in preparing their meal and insists on simply watching him, Osamu thinks he’ll let it slide this time and not even complain about it.

They end up with too much onigiri and sushi for just the both of them.

“Winning Eleven?” his twin asks.

“Ready to take a beating then?”

_**~Twelve years prior~  
**_ _ **April 2006**_ , 10 years old (Amagasaki First ES, fifth grade)

“Tsumu,” Osamu says between bites. “Why you gotta be like that to the others?” He is having dinner with his brother at home. Their parents called half an hour earlier to tell the twins not to wait for them if they’re already hungry as they got stuck in a meeting and were still in the office. “They hate you now ‘cause you’re so bossy and mean. They didn’t really do anything bad, but you embarrassed them during the match and in front of the other team.”

Atsumu looks at his brother, shrugs just the slightest bit, and resumes shoveling food down his throat, something he’d never do in front of people outside of their immediate family. “I don’t care.”

“I’ve decided I’m gonna be the better twin,” Osamu continues. “They can’t blame okaahan and otouhan for your poor upbringing if I prove to them it’s not our parents’ fault.” Atsumu’s still nonplussed as he continues chewing his bite of meat.

Wide-eyed Osamu persists in making his twin see some sense. “And don’t you wanna be liked by the people? The others might tell their parents about your poor behavior, and then what? You haven’t even begun to rule and they already hate you.”

Atsumu takes a moment to address his brother. He puts down his bowl of rice and chopsticks and looks Osamu in the eye. “I don’t really care, Samu. They can hate me all they want. They can’t do anything about it anyway; I’m still gonna rule over them even if they don’t like me.” With his back to the door, he doesn’t notice their parents entering the room midway his spiel.

Osamu sees their smiles turn into frowns, but they choose not to say anything about it yet. And he understands, because Tsumu’s never going to listen when he’s got something else he’s doing besides thinking and reflecting on his own stupid actions. He shouldn’t have tried reasoning with his brother during dinner in the first place.

\- - -

Later, when the table is cleared and the twins are back in their own rooms for the night, Osamu decides to try one more time and convince his twin to be kinder. It simply won’t do for Atsumu to be hated this early. While power to rule is still passed on in the family, it’s not like the olden times when people would blindly follow everything their leaders said. Atsumu has to win over the people and make them trust him, just like their father. 

So he makes his way to his brother’s room, but stops short near the door when he hears voices inside. It seems his mother’s got the same idea as him. He doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, but he hears Atsumu say his name. _There’s no way I’m not gonna listen now._

“Let me understand it better, Atsumu, please,” their mother says softly, trying to coax her son into telling her more. “What’s it got to do with Osamu? He hasn’t got himself in trouble, has he?”

He doesn’t see it, but he’s sure Atsumu’s shaking his head as his brother is wont to do when he’s trying to defend both or either of them. That’s the thing about them; they fight like there’s no tomorrow, but they’ve always got each other’s backs, especially against other people, sometimes even including their own parents.

“Okaahan, you didn’t hear what they were saying about Samu,” Atsumu whines.

“Tell me then, Atsumu. What did they say about your brother?”

It’s so quiet that Osamu’s sure his brother won’t ever reveal any details. But after a few more seconds, he hears a faint, “...that he’s nothing special just ‘cause he’s only the _spare_ , like Samu’s worth nothing just ‘cause....” Oh, Osamu thinks, _so that’s why. Must’ve been the first time he’s heard others say things like that about me._

_**~Eighteen years prior~  
**_ _ **November 2000**_ , 5 years old

“Give me some, Samu!” Atsumu cries. “I want that, too.”

“No!” he answers as he moves the pack of candied fruit out of his brother’s reach. “You finished yours. This is mine.”

“But I want more, Samu!”

“I said no!”

The twins are in their grandparents’ house for their monthly visit. But an old family friend came over with an urgent matter to discuss with their grandfather and their grandmother’s with him to serve tea. That leaves them in the company of the household staff, who obviously have no idea what to do when the two get into a fight.

“Here, Atsumu-sama,” one of the housekeepers says, holding out a basket filled with different snacks. “Please get anything you want from here.” 

Atsumu looks like he isn’t sure what to do. While the basket does have a lot of delicious treats, he must really be wanting the one in Osamu’s hands. It takes him half a minute to react, and by then Osamu is already reaching for something in the proffered container. But the woman swiftly moves from her position and goes closer to Atsumu, the treats immediately getting out of Osamu’s reach.

“Can I have that one please?” Osamu asks anyway, pointing at a pack of karinto.

“Hey!” Atsumu shouts at his brother. But before he can say anything more, the woman cuts in.

“Atsumu-sama, please pick what you want. Then Osamu-sama can get another treat after you.”

Atsumu looks...torn. Like he’s so pleased with himself, but at the same time impossibly annoyed at something. Osamu just wants him to choose, really, so he can finally have that delicious-looking karinto.

It takes a while, but Atsumu makes up his mind at last and moves. Osamu doesn’t understand why his brother’s suddenly glaring at the woman, but before he can ask him what’s wrong, a pack of karinto is shoved into his free hand. “What else d’you want, Samu?”

 _Hmm_ , Osamu thinks. Of course he’s noticed that many people outside of their family make sure Atsumu is served first and only the best and gets the first choice. But he doesn’t mind, not really. Their parents explained it to him, that it’s because Atsumu’s born minutes ahead of him, that their parents treat them the same but some people may not because of that fifteen-minute difference—and it’s no fault of his or his brother’s. Besides, his twin always makes sure they get to enjoy the same things. Always.

He shakes his head and holds out the two snacks in his hands. “Let’s finish these first, Tsumu. ‘Kay?”

* * *

_**December 2018**_ , 23 years old

They’re gathered at home. His parents are in his father’s home office, undoubtedly on the phone with the Emperor. Osamu and his grandmother are seated in front of the TV in the living room. They’re glued to the news though they know it’s useless because live updates about Atsumu will most definitely come to them from the Imperial palace instead of the media. But it gives them something to focus on.

It’s been eight hours since they were informed that Atsumu picked up Princes Kiyoomi and Motoya from the Imperial palace hours before. At some point they led their security detail on a merry chase to lose them, then turned off their phones. Even the GPS tracker on Atsumu’s car was deactivated. Their last known location was on the expressway heading to Shiratorizawa, of all places. Then the massive earthquake struck the northeastern region of the country, and they’ve lost any possible form of communication with them as signal in the area is still down and roads are completely blocked.

But Osamu’s oddly calm. He can count on one hand the number of times he’s not seen his brother for more than three days, including this instance. He was actually more worried that time Atsumu was late in coming back home after the All-Japan Youth Training Camp when they were in high school. And he was right about that one; there had been a car accident then. So for him to feel normal despite not having heard from his twin means that he’s most probably safe. 

With his mind relatively clear and having nothing better to do while waiting for news, he turns to his grandmother who’s seated next to him. He thinks it’s a good time as any to confront her regarding Atsumu’s impending marriage—and her using his relationship with Rintarou as a bargaining chip.

“Obaahan,” he starts. She looks at him, worry evident in her eyes. “When Atsumu comes home—and he will come back—I hope the first thing you’ll tell him is that he doesn’t need to marry the prince to make you and the spirits of ojiisan and hiiojiisan happy.”

He watches intently as his grandmother closes her eyes and sighs deeply. He’s not yet done though; Atsumu may have one of the most abrasive personalities he’s ever known, but Osamu can be just as bad when he’s upset or angry and he says what he thinks without filter (though toward his twin, it’s all the time).

“He wouldn’t have been there in the first place if not for your meddling.” His grandmother barely moves, but he sees tears rolling down her cheeks. “And you’re not welcome at my own wedding unless you make sure he marries whom he really wants to marry.”

Atsumu has his ways of showing his twin he loves him. This is one of Osamu’s.


	6. Find My Way To You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, Atsumu and Kita are reunited. But before that, heartaches and adventures. 
> 
> Warnings: A wild cow appears. (^○^) After, soft AtsuKita coming your way. 
> 
> Written for Day 7 of #AtsuKita Week

_**7 December 2018** _

It’s early enough that Atsumu doesn’t have to deal with the usual heavy traffic in the busiest parts of central Itachiyama. Why Prince Kiyoomi wants to be picked up from the Imperial Palace, he has no idea. Atsumu’s sure his own car pales in comparison with any of the luxury cars the prince owns.

He’s surprised to see, however, that the prince is already waiting by the foyer, accompanied by his cousin, Prince Motoya. Upon reaching them, he rolls down the passenger window and greets them hello. He’s at least grateful for Prince Motoya’s presence; he’s a ray of sunshine compared to his grumpy cousin early this morning. _Which he shouldn’t even be_ , thinks Atsumu. _He’s the one who’s asked me to pick him up at this hour after all._

He drives around the city, just following where Prince Motoya tells him to go. The two of them talk about their duties and the latest V.League news while the other prince broods, only his narrow eyes and scrunched up eyebrows visible as the rest of his face is covered by a mask.

“Sorry,” Prince Motoya says as he gestures to his cousin in the passenger seat. “He’s usually more tolerable.” This earns him a glare from the black-haired prince, but he continues anyway. “He’s just nervous, is all.”

“About what?” Atsumu says the same time Prince Kiyoomi hisses his cousin’s name.

“Hmm, you’ll find out soon enough,” is the vague answer he gets. But he quickly forgets about it because he’s suddenly asked to take narrow road after narrow road.

“What’s this,” he turns to the curly-haired man. “Is evaluating my driving skills part of your decision-making process before you agree to marry me?”

“Hush, Atsumu,” He’s alternately checking the side and back mirrors. He then turns to his cousin in the back seat, “We’ve lost them, I think.”

“Who?” The blond’s absolutely clueless about what is happening. And he starts feeling really nervous when he’s ordered to turn off his phones and anything else that may be used to track their location—even the GPS tracker of his car. _Are they gonna do something illegal and pin it on me after? From potential match to personal chauffeur to scapegoat real quick._

Prince Kiyoomi glares at him. “Stop being so dramatic.”

Atsumu’s mouth forms an O. “Said that out loud, did I?” He is ignored by the dark-haired prince, but at least Prince Motoya pats his left shoulder in acknowledgment and commiseration. “Still, you wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Turns out, his prospective fiancé fancies a visit to Shiratorizawa; for what, Atsumu doesn’t know. And since the two princes rarely get the chance to drive themselves, the shorter of the two offers to take turns behind the wheel. (PK: _I’d rather not drive a car I don’t own, thanks._ )

A few hours and countless rice fields later, they arrive at a well-maintained traditional Japanese house with a nice garden. But before they can even alight from the car, disaster strikes.

It’s a blur after that. They’re faced with so much destruction; the house in front of them as well as nearby structures are heavily damaged. But the residents are all lucky for no one is seriously injured. And that’s when he notices—of all people—Ushijima Wakatoshi, who’s back in his hometown for a family visit.

* * *

All roads out of Shiratorizawa are blocked. There’s no signal still, so they cannot even inform their families of their whereabouts. Aftershocks continue to plague them, so they continue to feel on edge. With Atsumu’s emergency bag in the car plus everything they are able to gather from what remains of the Ushijima residence, they have enough food and water to last them until tomorrow.

They offer their assistance wherever it’s needed: the two princes helping Ushijima’s neighbors, Atsumu and Ushijima braving some houses to get the families’ emergency kits, the four of them calming down the scared kids and spooked pets during the aftershocks. Later on, they move to the temporary shelters set up by the local government for Ushijima’s family to be able to rest while the young men—especially the two princes—offer their help as best as they can.

By nightfall, as they try to settle down after a harrowing day, Prince Kiyoomi finally finds enough courage to explain. After all that worry and stress, Atsumu’s truly and finally done with according this person—prince or not—the respect he obviously does not deserve. “What shitty timing you have, Omi,” he tells him. Still, he’s careful not to be overheard; he doesn’t need one more thing on top of the shit he’s already in to disappoint his parents more.

And now he finally sees the entire picture. Omi’s in a secret relationship with Ushiwaka. Or has been before (though now it looks like they’re going to try and work things out). The relationship sounds serious, but Omi tells him of two problems: the pro volleyball player is both a commoner and a man. Atsumu, whose quite well-versed in such matters given his history with Kita, tells him it shouldn’t even be a problem as he’s far down the line of succession, especially since Omi isn’t the Crown Prince and his brother already has two sons, plus his elder sister also has a son of her own. And if people give them a hard time for being a same-sex couple, then he can always opt to have his child through surrogacy and have the baby adopted by his partner. It’s what he would have done, he explains.

But the crux of the matter, apparently, is that Ushiwaka doesn’t plan on giving up his athletic career for a comfortable royal life with Omi in the palace. Which means the prince would have to give up his title should he choose to be with Ushijima. They couldn’t reach an agreement and decided to take a break earlier in the year.

On top of that, his grandfather, the Emperor Emeritus himself, approached him about the promised union between their family and the House of Miya. The prince had a hard time saying no to his grandfather and finally agreed to meet Atsumu sometime after their graduation. He saw no harm in getting to know the Miya heir to make his grandfather happy. He could always reject him later on, say that it wouldn’t work out between them given their personalities. But some blabbermouth at the palace (who was removed from duty eventually) let that info out, and then the rumors started.

With seemingly the whole country on their case, the prince was told to take responsibility for the inconvenience the breach of confidentiality caused the Miya family (despite Atsumu being hounded by wedding rumors even before Prince Kiyoomi entered the picture). In no uncertain terms he was informed that the only way of out the arranged marriage now was if the Miya heir himself rejected it. After all, their family has been assured numerous times by the Miya matriarch that the next ruler of Inarizaki is free and very much willing to marry the young prince.

 _What’s with all this drama,_ Atsumu can’t help but ask. First, Shinsuke. Then, his own grandmother and Granny Kita. Now, Omi and the Emperor Emeritus, with Ushiwaka tagging along. _It’s too much!_

“I’ve just one question,” the blond finally gives voice to his thoughts. “If you and Ushiwaka are over, then what are we even doing here?” The prince’s face clearly shows his surprise at being questioned: round eyes and both eyebrows raised. _As if I would just take all this inconvenience lying down,_ Atsumu bristles. “I mean, you could’ve just explained it to me at the palace. And if you really didn’t wanna go through with the marriage, we could’ve told them no. We did agree it’s going to be both our decisions, whether to marry or not. But you had to drag me all the way here.”

The prince averts his eyes, scrunches his nose up as if Atsumu himself were an altogether offending sight and smell, and says: “I wanted you to see us together so you could finally decide to reject my family’s offer of marriage.”

 _Okay_ , Atsumu can give him that. And yet: “But why all the secrecy in coming here? I just don’t get it.”

Despite the mask covering half of his face, Prince Kiyoomi’s blush is evident as it reaches the skin just under his eyes. “The bodyguards, obviously. They report everything I’m up to to my family.” And speaking barely above a whisper, he adds, “And Wakatoshi-kun’s been ignoring me, no doubt thinking the rumors about us are true. I didn’t want anyone finding out we’re on our way to his hometown and alerting him somehow; he would’ve known and been able to dodge us.”

It still doesn’t make a lot of sense to Atsumu, who merely raises an eyebrow.

“Look, a lot of, uh, fans are just too intense; we’ve been photographed all the times we were together, even that one time we got coffee in a rundown cafe along an out-of-the-way street. Wakatoshi-kun had an alert set up for all tags of my name because I couldn’t always call or message him. If a fan had seen us on the way here and mentioned it on social media, he would’ve known about it.” With eyes downcast, he adds, “Seems so stupid now. We’re stuck here during this disaster and nobody has any means of contacting us. I’m sorry, Atsumu.”

The blond lets it all sink in first. “Oh, wow,” he finally says. “You and Ushiwaka’s got it worse than Kita and I ever did then.”

“Kita?” says a deep voice behind him. Turning around, he finds Ushijima on his way to them. He’s carrying wipes and a pack of masks, no doubt meant for the prince. “As in Kita Shinsuke, right? He’s told us about you.” 

_Right_ , Atsumu remembers now. Kita finished his degree in Shiratorizawa, alongside Kita’s cousin, Suna’s cousin, and of course Ushijima Wakatoshi himself.

* * *

Atsumu leaves the two (ex?)lovers so they can have their much-needed talk. Hopefully, with the local government now in the know about the two princes’ presence in their prefecture, their families have already been informed of their whereabouts and wouldn’t need to worry anymore.

Prince Motoya’s still helping in the relief efforts, leaving Atsumu on his own. He grabs his bag and rummages through the contents, looking for one specific thing. When he finally finds it, it’s a heavy weight in his hand.

He’s always had it with him. When granny sent it to him six months ago, he desperately wanted to read it. But after his talk with own grandmother back in February, he decided to do everything he could to ensure his brother’s happiness. If that included giving the arranged marriage a serious try, then so be it.

But now, in light of everything—of Kita having left but apparently not forgetting about him, of Prince Kiyoomi and Ushijima’s relationship, his own grandmother’s scheming, and the stress of the past day—all he wants to do is devour every single word in the letter. It’s time to know the truth. No more running away.

> 30 March 2016
> 
> My love,
> 
> I am sorry.   
> I’m sorry for leaving. 
> 
> I’m sorry I made a decision that involves the both of us without consulting you first. Please know that had there been another way for me to settle this, I would have done it. But I am bound by my promise to do what is best for you, Inarizaki, and our country. I also have to think of my family’s comfort and safety.
> 
> This is the first major obstacle in our relationship. We’ve always had it easy; my family adores you, and your parents and brother have always made me feel welcome in your home. But we know we cannot please everyone. Let’s prove to them that we can remain steadfast despite the distance, that a love like ours is one that’s for life.
> 
> Treat this as a challenge instead, Atsumu. I know I did. I was asked to leave for good, to allow you to reach the destiny that’s been laid out for you without me pulling you down. At first I took it as something inevitable—accepting that, as a commoner, my time at the royal banquet is finally up. But we’ve both learned what we must do at times like this: calculate the risks and negotiate. So I looked at it instead as a real life application of our training, a test more like. 
> 
> I got us two years, my dear Atsumu. Just two years away from each other in exchange for the rest of our lives together. I cannot have any form of communication with you after this, and I cannot disclose all details of the deal. Do not look for me, please. It will invalidate the agreement. I promise you, I will be in good hands, living with some relatives up north. But you better believe that you’ll always be in my heart and thoughts.
> 
> Two years and hundreds of miles apart may feel daunting at first. But we are built upon the small things we do every day, remember? We’ve nurtured our love and made our relationship strong the past couple of years. It won’t be easy to tear down what we’ve built between and around us day in, day out since high school. I’m counting on you. I trust you.
> 
> I love you, Atsumu. I really, really do.
> 
> Wait for me, please. Until we get to see each other again, just keep studying, improving, and playing volleyball. Take this time to focus on yourself, and when I return, we’ll both be ready to take on the world together.
> 
> Yours and only yours,
> 
> Shinsuke

Atsumu quietly cries himself to sleep, all the while holding the letter close to his heart.

* * *

_**8 December 2018** _

Disasters have a way of strengthening the family in such tremendous ways that other life events simply cannot. It’s not like every dispute and strain is magically solved, but everyone tends to be more apologetic, more understanding, more forgiving.

They leave Shiratorizawa via chopper early in the morning. After a brief stop at the palace, where about a dozen photos of the three of them were taken to reassure the public that they’re all safe, Atsumu heads straight back home. He’s eager to get back to work and set up something, anything to help those who are badly affected by the earthquake. He’s not sure what’s going to happen to Prince Kiyoomi and Ushijima, but they’ve already discussed with the Emperor Emeritus that there would be no wedding happening between their families any time soon. And that there need not be any, even in the next generations. Though the former emperor looked a bit disappointed, he was more relieved at his grandsons’ safety. 

There is no doubt his grandmother will be hearing about it even before he steps a single foot back in Inarizaki. As soon as he leaves the palace, seated comfortably at the back of his bodyguards’ car as his own has been left in Shiratorizawa, he calls his parents and Osamu. He’s told the family matriarch kept vigil for him until late last night and is feeling a bit ill. He breathes a sigh of relief upon knowing he’ll have more time to compose himself before speaking with her. Osamu assures him she’ll get better soon as he himself has given her her own medicine. _Is that supposed to be idiomatic or what_ , he muses. _Trust stupid Samu to butcher the language like the horrible wannabe chef that he is._

Minutes before they reach Inarizaki, his personal phone buzzes. Since very few people actually know his personal number, he answers without checking who’s calling, thinking it’s his brother or either of his parents. “Yes?”

He hears a hitched breath, but the person on the end of the line remains quiet. He’s about to check the caller ID when he finally hears a familiar voice calling his name.

He’s stunned. _Am I ready for this,_ he ponders. But his heart is quick to answer: _I’m not ready, not yet._ He only realizes how long he’s been silent when finally he hears a deep, steadying breath.

Then, in a soft but firm voice, Shinsuke says: “I’m sorry to bother you. I just wanted to check that you’re really okay. Granny’s also asking after you.” He pauses, perhaps he’s not sure how to continue, or he’s waiting for Atsumu’s reaction. When the blond says nothing, he drifts off with, “I’m glad you’re safe, Atsumu,” and finally ends the call.

He doesn’t move, unsure of what to do. When he woke up this morning, he knew that a meeting with Shinsuke would be necessary. But he figured it could wait until after he’d had the chance to speak with his grandmother first.

“Atsumu-sama,” Matsumoto-san tries to get his attention from the passenger seat. He’s the head of the blond’s security detail and has been looking after him for about a decade now. “Are you alright? We can pull over if you’re feeling sick.”

He shakes his head but remains quiet. He knows he first needs to get to the bottom of what his grandmother threatened Shinsuke with when she forced him to leave Inarizaki. He’s fully aware that he’s not going to get any details from his ex about that deal; he’s stubborn and proper like that. A man of his word. So if he intends to be cognizant of every aspect of that agreement, he’s going to have to confront her. And it’s better to do that before he even tries to work things out with the love of his life.

But the longing he feels, intensified by the letter he read last night and the voice he’s just heard, consumes him. He throws logic out the window, brings up his call history, and taps the number on top of the list.

His call is answered on the third ring. Neither of them says anything for a while, but Atsumu can hear muffled sniffles. He’s surprised at how much he’s calmed down by just listening to Shinsuke’s quiet crying.

And because he’s stupid like that, he asks the obvious after about a minute, “Are you crying?”

A snort then a soft “No” come through, but the sniffling continues.

He smiles at the blatant fib, a sad one that’s full of regrets and missed chances and endless, hopeless yearning. “Since when have you learned to lie, Shin?” 

He’s not sure he’s going to get an answer, not with the quiet sobbing he now hears. But Shinsuke eventually replies, his voice barely above a whisper, “Since I had to tell myself I’m fine without you.”

And just like that, the dam breaks.

They stay on the phone, listening to each other’s cries. It’s only when Matsumoto-san discreetly confirms with Atsumu that they’re still headed home that their moment is interrupted. He shakes his head, and the man nods his in understanding.

A few minutes later, the car finally stops. Atsumu’s not sure where they are. He was expecting to be driven straight to Shinsuke’s house out of town, but it looks like they’re still in the city. He cocks his head toward Matsumoto-san, but the bodyguard just hands him a piece of paper with “Apt. 307” written on it.

“Wha—” Atsumu starts, but the man gestures for him to go. He is all smiles and speaks loud enough to be heard by Shinsuke through the phone, “We’re here, Kita-san. Please take care of Atsumu-sama.”

* * *

They’re in the apartment’s small living space, half their bodies—legs entwined—under the kotatsu. Atsumu’s head is resting on Shinsuke’s left shoulder, the older’s left arm circling his waist. They must’ve exchanged hundreds of “I’m sorry’s” and “Forgive me’s” and “I love you’s” by now.

Earlier, Atsumu talked about what he did after failing to contact Shinsuke. How Suna found out the older had been in Shiratorizawa all along, and how he saw him with Oomimi-san the year before and was convinced they were together. He received a pinch on the cheek for it, with an accompanying admonishment. “Stop being jealous of Ren, Atsumu. He’s straight and has a girlfriend.” 

He also shared about the story of his great-grandfather’s heroic deed and the resulting marriage arrangement between the two royal families, his grandmother’s use of Osamu’s relationship with Suna as a bargaining chip, as well as the talk he and Prince Kiyoomi had with the Emperor Emeritus.

He ended with, “Did you know Omi’s with Ushiwaka? I never saw that coming, to be honest.”

Shinsuke made a noncommittal grunt at first, perhaps because he was aware of the fact, but he suddenly pushed the blond back to look him straight in the eyes. “You dare to call the Imperial prince so casually?” Atsumu was itching to tease him about being jealous himself, until he heard the other’s disappointed voice. “Have you learned nothing from our lessons?”

For his part, Shinsuke mentioned just how many times Alan-kun shot him down whenever he said he was fine, how he tried to be okay despite the hurt he felt with all the wedding rumors going around, and how scared he was upon hearing that they might have been harmed during the disaster. “You know I don’t believe in gods, unlike granny, but I found myself praying fervently last night. I called the name of every god I could remember, asking them to listen to my pleas and keep you three—especially you—and my family and friends there safe from harm.” 

He also recounted the events that led to the deal, admitted it was between him and the Miya matriarch but adamantly refused to reveal any more details, just like what the blond had predicted. “It’s been more than two years now, Atsumu. It’s over; we’re back together. Let it rest.”

“Right, what will clinging to the past two and a half years bring us? Nothing but sadness and hurt,” he responds after a long pregnant pause. “All I need is right here,” he says as he hugs Shinsuke tighter. “All I need is you.”

Eventually, they both get up from their comfortable positions. The blond has to return home at some point, and despite being sure Matsumoto-san’s informed his parents, they are undoubtedly waiting for him.

At the genkan, they share one last kiss before Atsumu tells Shinsuke, “I’ll be back.”

* * *

Exactly an hour and a half before his bedtime, he receives a message on his phone. “Time to put your phone away, Atsumu. Rest well. I love you.”

And just like that, he’s a hundred percent sure there won’t be any setbacks; they’re picking up right where they left off, but this time stronger than ever. He doesn’t send a reply, just as he’s always done before. Instead, the following morning, the first thing he does upon waking up is text Shinsuke. “Good morning, my love. I’ll see you later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’ve reached this part, then thank you so much for sticking till the end. It’s been so long since I wrote anything that’s not academic-related, so if it feels clunky—that’s totally on me. Felt that way too whilst editing. But I had this urge to somehow contribute to atskt nation this AtsuKita Week, so even if the fic’s far from perfect I still hope you enjoyed it. 
> 
> 本当にありがとうございました。


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